Blue Memories
by LSR-7
Summary: Lisbon is shot and Jane contemplates their relationship and her past while watching over her in the hospital. AUish in that the story is assumed to happen a year or two after Ep. 2.10. Jisbon. Sequel now up, look for "Azure Present".
1. Chapter 1

**Blue Memories**

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist show and characters are the property of Bruno Heller, Primrose Hill Productions, Warner Bros. Television and I'm sure others. I am not profiting from this story.

**Spoilers:** Leading up to and including Ep. 2.03 Red Badge

**Summary:** Lisbon is shot and Jane contemplates their relationship and her past. AUish in that the story is assumed to happen a year or two after Ep. 2.10 Throwing Fire, but does not necessarily have all the facts correct.

**Author's Notes:** My second Mentalist fanfic.

Special thanks to Yana aka Yaba who has graciously agreed to beta for me. Thank you!

I considered naming the story "Red Memories" to go with the red theme the show has in naming their episodes, but decided not to in case there is a future episode named that, in which case I would change the title of my story anyway.

This story mentions Minelli still working at the CBI, but he doesn't play a big role. He is in the story for lack of knowing who the new supervisor is since it has yet to be discussed. As soon as I know his replacement I may go back and change that, or you can accept it as part of the AUish-ness of this story.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy this story and as always reviews would be warmly welcomed.

***

**Chapter 1**

In their family, only her mother had called her "Teresa". To everyone else she had been either "Tessa" or "Tess". The nicknames were a result of her younger brother's inability to pronounce her name correctly from when he first started to speak, and it stuck. Two more younger brothers followed, each maintaining the tradition so that even her father more often than not called her "Tess", reserving her actual name for when she was in trouble.

Sadly, "Teresa" would be called in anger more often in what remained of her diminished childhood after the death of her mother.

Patrick Jane didn't know any of this. So when he sat by Teresa Lisbon's side in the ICU, one could occasionally hear the murmur of "Teresa" amid the hum and beeps from the machines surrounding them. Normally, only family of the patients was allowed into the ICU, and even then for a short period of time. He had convinced the nurses to let him see Lisbon with a flash of his wedding band, explaining he was her husband. He was able to charm them (a light hypnosis hadn't hurt) to allow him to stay as long as he wanted.

His expression was pensive, and not a little bit guilty, as the CBI consultant held the limp hand of an unconscious Teresa Lisbon. The white hospital sheets and her dark hair highlighted her pale face and dark circles under her eyes. She was intubated to assist her breathing, a bullet having broken her rib, which in turn pierced and collapsed her lung. The hissing of the ventilator was an ever present reminder of her present condition, though Jane was perversely thankful for the noise of the machines, as it kept the deathly silence at bay.

There was so much damage because of one bullet. One would think just being shot would be bad, but no. When the bullet slammed into her chest, not only did it cause the broken rib, which then pierced her lung, resulting in her need of a ventilator, but her fall caused even more damage. Lisbon had fallen backwards, her head making solid contact with first a table edge, then the hard floor. This ended in serious head trauma and (thankfully) minor neck injury.

She had been rushed in an ambulance to the hospital and whisked away into surgery, but that had been two days ago and she had not yet stirred from what appeared to be sleep. The doctor had told them she was in a coma, a result from the lack of air that was able to reach her brain. She had a serious head injury and only time would tell the extent of the damage. The doctor didn't want to give them any false hope, but said many coma patients usually came out of it within the first couple of weeks to a month. All that could be done now is to wait.

Jane continued to watch Lisbon's face for any changes, willing her to open her eyes as he held her hand in both of his, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumbs. He knew she wasn't one to accept much physical comfort, if she was awake she probably would have told him that she was fine, would tell him to go home, and perhaps try to put pressure on the nurses and doctors for an early release. He wished she would wake up and tell him to let go of her hand, if only to see her lightly freckled cheeks flush in some embarrassment and green eyes to dart away from his uncomfortably since in truth she would enjoy some of his comfort. But she'd rather die than admit that. Or shoot him. Whichever came first.

The slight smile that had lightened his face at the predicted outcome of his imagined scenario dropped at that final thought. Would she always keep everyone at an arm's length? At the office everyone on her team called each other by their surnames, her team, her rules. Even as he had called her Teresa in the privacy of the ICU, the little used name felt strange on his tongue as she was more often than not just "Lisbon". Even Cho, who has known Lisbon the longest, has never been in her apartment. Jane likely knew more about her than Cho, and what little he knew was part accidental and part observation, not much from her own mouth to him personally. They all knew she was fiercely private, another rule on her team to (try to) be professional, no dating between co-workers, using last names. The closest they got to "hanging out" was when they had closed case pizza and stake outs.

It was during the McTeer case that revealed a lot of information about her. If it hadn't been for Dr. Carmen, Jane would never have been able to set foot into Lisbon's apartment. Immediately he had cased her living area as he did the homes of all the people they visited during cases. He spotted the picture of three boys who appeared in their teens. He had deduced them to be her brothers based on the wavy, dark hair, lightly freckled skin, certainly a strong familial resemblance. At the very least they could be her nephews.

When she was under hypnosis, he confirmed that she did indeed dance to Spice Girls at times (and found the copy boy "hot", a fascinating and slightly disconcerting discovery for Jane). And later, during her act in front of the shrink, he learned more than she would have liked for him to know about her past under normal circumstances. But she trusted him.

Lisbon trusted Jane with the secret of her blackouts, trusted him to hypnotize her. That was a big step for her and he knew not to betray that trust he had teased her about previously, having her do a trust fall not too long before.

Though she didn't like crossing their professional and personal lives much (if at all), once you were on her team she felt responsible for you. She would fiercely protect anyone on her team, as fiercely as a mother bear would her cubs. Even as she'd tell him how she already regretted sticking her neck out for him and his indiscretions.

And of course it all boiled down to her control issues. From the separation of their personal and professional lives to Lisbon not letting Jane drive (because he drove too fast she'd remind him). If she had it her way the consultant wouldn't have any fun, obviously he was ignoring that much of his unorthodox way of working more than bent the rules that she lived by as an officer of the law. And all the paper work that is accrued waiting on her desk by the end of almost every case they worked on. Okay, so maybe he could try listening to her once in a while if only to save her time on filling out papers regarding his behavior during cases such as angering grieving families and handling evidence without permission. Well, he could listen to her if it didn't interfere with his hunches. Okay, maybe he could try not upsetting the people they interview… when it suited him. Well, fine. He was nice to Lisbon. That had to count for something. The pony he snuck into her office (with Cho's help) for her birthday made her smile in a way he had barely ever seen before on her face, if at all previously.

The blond consultant leaned his upper body onto the hospital bed, settling his curly head beside Lisbon's on the starched bed sheets, still gazing at her face, willing her to awaken as he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:** Thank you Yana for being my beta. She has spared you other readers from my many sentence fragments and run-on sentences.

Thanks to those of you who left reviews… so please read and review! It strokes my ego… :-P

**Chapter 2**

"Who the hell are you?"

Jane abruptly woke to that fierce whisper in his ear and a firm hand on his shoulder, hauling him up and away from Lisbon's bedside. The adrenaline quickly wiped out his grogginess and confusion at where he was. He looked up at his assailant as he was dragged out of the ICU by a tall, dark-haired man. Both were quiet until the door closed, mindful of the sleeping patient.

As soon as the door was closed, the tall man shoved the startled Jane up against a wall, his hand clutching the consultant's vest. They both noticed a nurse down the hall giving them a wary eye, clearly assessing the situation. Another second of prolonged contact between them and the nurse would be calling security. The tall man unclenched his hand from Jane's vest and forced himself to step back, though not once letting him out of his glare.

Jane held up his hands in a placating gesture, all the while running possibilities of who the man before him was. He looked strangely familiar, though he was certain they had never met before. Then it dawned on him.

"Are you Lisbon's brother?" Jane ventured.

The hard look hadn't left his eyes as he said, "The nurse told me Tessa's _husband_ was with her in ICU. She's never been married," he continued, totally ignoring Jane's question, steely gray eyes narrowing, "so _who_ _are_ _you_?"

Jane quickly sized up the situation: the man (he was certain he was Lisbon's brother) is taller than him, looked fit (not that Jane was a slouch, but he wasn't quite prepared for physical violence as previous situations had shown him), hands were balled up looking for an excuse to clock him (_'Please not the nose,'_ Jane thought). So he wisely made the decision to answer calmly.

"I'm Patrick Jane, I work at the CBI as a consultant with Lisbon's team," Jane said, lowering his hands, turning on the charm, and added as a precautionary measure, "We're good friends."

Jane's ego was deflated when he saw no recognition spark in the other man's eyes at his introduction. Though he had assumed that Lisbon wouldn't be the type to talk in much detail to family about cases she was working on, he held out some hope that he would have been mentioned. But, again, she wasn't the type apparently.

"I'm Michael Lisbon," the gray eyed man finally said, straightening up, his earlier glare relaxing, but not quite losing their suspicion.

'_Must be a Lisbon trait,'_ Jane smirked internally.

Michael tilted his head towards the ICU, "I'm her brother. Why was the nurse under the impression Tessa's 'husband' was with her?"

Seeing that he wasn't in any imminent danger, the CBI consultant let his body relax against the wall, an easy smile on his face, "It was the only way they'd let me see her," and in typical Patrick Jane fashion he changed the subject, "So you call her Tessa. Interesting. I have to say that she doesn't look like a Tessa."

"Only family calls her that," Michael replied, rubbing a hand against his neck. Jane noticed the male Lisbon's tired eyes, rumpled clothing, and unshaven face, likely from traveling a long time in cramped quarters. Driving or riding business on an airplane. He wore a fire department's dark blue jacket with "M. Lisbon" embroidered in white on his chest, a t-shirt and worn jeans.

"I'm going in there for a while, but when I come back," Michael pinned Jane with a look, his dark eyebrows furrowing, "I expect a full explanation as to what happened."

With that the younger man left Jane in the hall, thinking to himself about the common traits between the two Lisbons, and a knack for annoying them.

Jane waited in the lounge, sitting in a cushioned chair (for lack of a couch to lie on), skimming through old Highlights magazine issues disinterestedly as he waited for Michael to finish speaking to the doctor. Normally he would have been monopolizing attention with his sleight of hand tricks and powers of observation, annoying or charming people as he saw fit with candid opinions of them (unasked for), and generally causing trouble, but he wasn't in the mood. It was the least he could do in not causing more paperwork for Lisbon to fill out when she returned to work. She _will_ return to work. Jane would see to it. It was just a matter of time, for her to wake up, heal, and get out of this hospital.

The CBI consultant tossed the magazine he was looking at back onto the coffee table beside him, leaning back into his chair and rolled his head, watching the people around him. There was a toy bin at the end of the lounge by the windows. Two children were playing with a large wire contraption on a wooden base board that had beads on it. The wires were of different colors and the children entertained themselves pushing colored wooden beads on the wire that looped around the other wires. He believed that they were imagining it was a roller coaster ride judging from the track noises and simulated crowd screams they were making.

He remembered his daughter playing on a similar set when waiting for a check-up at the doctor's office. They all seemed to have this thing. And Highlights magazines from ten years ago.

He was shaken out of his reverie when he heard a man's footsteps approach him. He swiveled his head to his left to see Michael Lisbon walk into the lounge and heavily sit across from him. Jane made no move to straighten up in his chair, which he believed would have irked the Lisbon in front of him had he not been so tired, had they not met under other circumstances.

"The doctor told me that Tessa was shot in the ribs, has a punctured lung, minor neck injury, and has head trauma. And she's been in a coma. But I guess you already knew that," Michael spoke softly, his face had been resting in his hands, elbows on his knees, as he spoke his hands had fallen away to dangle limply between his legs.

"She said Tessa's best chances would be to get out of that coma within the first month. After that…" Lisbon's brother paused, grief in his eyes, "after that," he continued, Jane slowly pulling himself up in his chair, "well, her chances of waking up diminish. A lot."

Wavy dark hair had flopped onto the tall man's forehead when he had rested his head on his hands. He even had the faint freckling that his Lisbon had. He supposed Michael would be found attractive by women. Jane spotted the silver wedding band on Michael's finger. _'Too bad for the other women.'_

"How did this happen?"

Michael's tired tenor voice roused Jane from his musings and though he was externally able to stop himself from squirming under the younger man's gaze, he couldn't stop the guilty look that came over his face. The brother noticed the look and hesitation, but forced himself to relax. He leaned back into the chair, crossing his arms across his chest as he leveled his eyes on the uncomfortable consultant. He had to hear the whole story first. Then he could decide if he'd have to thrash the curly haired blonde, if Tessa didn't wake up and beat him to it. _'No pun intended,'_ he thought to himself.

Jane tried to ignore the slightly predatory gleam that crept across the Lisbon man's gray eyes and cleared his throat as he sat up, leaning forward a bit. He laced his fingers together.

"We were going after a murder suspect," Jane began and told the story.

_The murder suspect, Jimmy Dawes, also had previous run-ins with the law for possession of illegal narcotics. Local authorities were never able to pin him for dealing, though they had their suspicions. At the very least they had wanted to see if they could connect him with any gangs, find out who was the distributer. _

_When Dawes and his girlfriend Cidny Chapman went missing, the CBI were brought in to investigate. That in itself wouldn't necessarily be a cause for alarm were it not for the signs of forced entry into Chapman's apartment and the copious amount of blood soaked into the living room floor. Sure signs of foul play._

_After a thorough search of the area, the police had found a kitchen knife in a storm drain that tested positive for human blood. Blood and DNA tests revealed that the blood on the apartment floor was a woman's, the blood on the knife matched. It was assumed to be Cidny Chapman's blood, but couldn't be confirmed without a DNA sample from either Chapman or her relatives. Secondary blood evidence was revealed to be Jimmy Dawes' in a couple of blood drops leading towards the door. His fingerprints on the handle and some blood (likely from a wound in his hand caused by stabbing with the kitchen knife as it had no hand guard to prevent self injury) had also been matched to Dawes. But without a body it couldn't be called a murder._

_The apartment was a mess, not from the likely foul play, but from obvious evidence of drug use. They had to wear masks to enter. Lighters, burnt aluminum foil, and used hypodermic needles were scattered about. Something was rotting in the kitchen, possibly very old pizza if the pizza boxes were anything to go by, or old Chinese takeout. But then again it could have been the dirty bathroom (complete with homemade chemistry set) or even the various stains on the carpets and most anything else in the whole apartment, some was old blood, but most were other bodily fluids the team would rather not think about. The labs confirmed that methamphetamine, more commonly known as "crystal meth", was present, even permeating the walls, not to mention any other available surfaces seemingly porous or not. Certainly the team would want to burn their clothes and scrub themselves clean in a nice, long, hot shower after visiting this crime scene._

_Picking up where the local authorities left off, Lisbon's team interviewed Chapman's neighbors._

_As the rest of the team went down the apartment hallway, door by door, questioning reluctant neighbors, Jane had spotted someone through Chapman's living room window outside and across the street that kept looking in the building's direction nervously. He'd say that it was what the rest of the team would call a "Jane hunch", but really it was a gimme. How obvious could those nervous glances be?_

_He went into the hallway and interrupted Lisbon mid questioning of a neighbor who really didn't want anything to do with them._

"_He knows nothing, at least nothing with this case. Although if you want to arrest him-," Jane took a pen out of his inner chest pocket and stuck one end into the neighbor's robe pocket, revealing a suspicious plastic baggie with white powder. "Hey Officer Dandy," he called out as the robed man jerked back his robe away from Jane's pen, appearing quite appalled, the look quickly followed by dread. A young officer down the hall snapped his head, looking confusedly between the CBI agent and consultant, then peeved at Jane's nickname for him when he found that the consultant was indeed speaking to him. "You might want to come down here and take a look at this gentleman's robe."_

_As the officer rushed toward them to chase the now fleeing man Jane pulled Lisbon by her wrist towards the nearest exit._

"_Jane! What are you doing?" Lisbon asked through clenched teeth, yanking her wrist out of Jane's hand and stopping. He could tell that she was still upset with him about their last case, he had ticked off the wrong attorney who was threatening to file suit against the CBI. Minelli had called both Jane and Lisbon (as she was technically the consultant's boss) into his office for a dressing down, which didn't faze Jane in the least bit. Lisbon, on the other hand, apologized profusely and said it would never happen again. How she could still look so sincere knowing by now that it was only a matter of time before Jane angered someone in a position of power, Jane would never know. She took responsibility as usual and that was that for the time being._

"_I believe there is someone who'd like to speak to us about this case," he answered cryptically with his trademark smirk as he again resumed walking towards the street, hands in his pockets. Lisbon rolled her eyes, but jogged after him to catch up with his longer strides._

_The person Jane had seen watching the apartment was a boy who had just hit his growth spurt, as evidenced by worn jeans that didn't quite go down his legs far enough. He hadn't wanted to be seen talking with uniformed officers as that could ruin his reputation, but was willing enough to tell Jane what they wanted to know, even seeming to be relieved once he did._

_The boy had seen someone of Dawes' description drag a woman into a rusty sedan the previous night. He hadn't been able to tell if the woman was alive or not, she could have been drunk, strung out, or unconscious. Questionable activities happened all the time here, everybody just tried to mind their own business turning a blind eye to avoid getting in trouble themselves. _

_Lisbon had asked the boy what he was doing out late by himself, he answered with a shrug, not meeting her eyes. His shaggy hair fell around his neck revealing bruising that looked sickeningly like fingers. Her tone of voice softened, her body relaxing to appear as non-threatening as possible as she pulled out her business card and wrote down numbers on the back._

"_If you ever want to talk to someone or need a safe place to be…" she trailed off, noticing the boy's body stiffening in response to her words. She looked him firmly in the eyes even as he tried to shrug off her concern, "You don't have to believe me, but I know what it's like. You don't deserve this; don't let your pride get you hurt. You have to grow up fast, but you're still a kid. You deserve to still be a kid."_

_Lisbon pressed her card into the boy's hand, maintaining eye contact with him, holding his hand firmly and finally let go when something in his eyes let her know that her message was being considered. She turned away and walked back to the apartments to let the rest of the team know about their new lead. Jane had wandered a bit away when Lisbon had started questioning the gawky teen. They had never talked about it, but he knew Lisbon had it tough growing up. It was difficult to connect the dirty, bruised, teen to the diminutive and clean agent in front of him, but she had clearly seen something in the boy that she was very familiar with. Her powers of observation could almost rival his when it came to that boy because she had lived through it._

_The team had gone back to headquarters to access the computer networks in search of the car described by the boy on the street. Lisbon had called in to put an APB out on Dawes and Chapman with descriptions of the car and each person. She included that the suspect was extremely dangerous, possibly armed and hopped up on meth._

_Van Pelt was able to match the car description with one stolen a day before. The first two possibilities were a bust but, as Jane said, "Third one's the charm."_

_The third lead they followed up on was indeed the "charm". The sun had set when the local authorities found the described car abandoned in a back alley (always a back alley!) near some warehouses and fenced construction sites. Chapman's anorexic body, a testament to her drug abuse, was found lying in the back seat. The car engine and driver's seat was still warm, indicating that the driver (hopefully Dawes) was nearby and likely on the run. They had no time but to try to go after him. Thankfully Jane found some clues that pointed out which way Dawes had fled, to the warehouses. How typical. As the team neared, Lisbon ordered Rigsby and Van Pelt to split off to search the warehouse on the right while she took Cho with her to the left. _

"_Jane! Go back to the car! You could get hurt!" she yelled at him, but he just grinned at her and followed along. He knew she had no time to waste arguing with him, and sure enough she just huffed and ignored him as she focused ahead of her._

_It was dark and the few lights that were there were merely casting low orange lights across the lots and against walls. As they jogged along the buildings, they tested doors to see if any were unlocked, possible hiding places for Dawes. Finally, one flakey metal door creaked open. Cho and Lisbon looked at each other and gave a single nod. They drew their weapons out, releasing the safeties. Through a whispered count they shoved through the door, back to back glancing around the poorly illuminated warehouse. No one had a flashlight. Light was provided in the form of emergency exit signs above doors and the orange light that wafted through the barred windows high up the walls. It appeared that half of the space was partitioned off into smaller rooms, maybe management offices and meeting rooms._

_As they cautiously walked across the room they saw lots of bulky things, they looked to be stacked crates, barrels, a couple shipping containers, chains hung from the ceiling, and many other things to hide in or behind. _

_Clunk!_

_A sudden sound, a paint can falling over, and the scrabbling of feet disturbed the eerie silence._

"_Freeze! CBI!" Lisbon yelled into the darkness as she and Cho did their best to pursue the slapping of running feet that echoed in the warehouse._

_Jane split off, having decided on the likely spot the suspect would end up, and waited. It wasn't too long until Jane's patience and hunch paid off. He heard crashes and slapping feet coming closer to the room in which he waited. It appeared to be a crude conference or planning room, the floor was concrete like the rest of the warehouse, a few chairs were stacked against a wall. The only other things in the room were a couple of solid science class style tables and a whiteboard on wheels._

_The door crashed open and Jane flipped on the light switch by the only other door in the room. Jimmy Dawes managed to look startled despite having been running. _

"_I guess it is true what they say: the camera adds ten pounds," Jane said genially to a bewildered Dawes, "I mean, you looked gaunt in your profile picture but," and he whistled, as if impressed, "you look absolutely emaciated in person."_

_Dawes seemed to finally gather his wits about him, or what was left of them anyway, as he focused his squinting deep set eyes on the consultant._

"_Get out of the way man, I need to get outta here!" he yelled, agitated, greasy hair limply swaying with his words, head jerking, listening for Lisbon and Cho's nearing footsteps and keeping an eye on Jane._

"_Move!" Dawes yelled, then Jane heard a very unwelcome click as the murder suspect pulled a revolver out of his jacket, pointing the business end at him._

_The CBI consultant raised his hands up, eyebrows flashing up as he edged around the tables, moving away from the exit. "You don't want to do that Jimmy," he said._

"_Just shut up! You're all after me! If she'd just gimme what I needed- SHE attacked ME!" Dawes ranted, his gun waved in the air. Jane could tell the man wasn't quite all there, nor exactly talking to him, but that gun was still in the suspect's hand, a very unpredictable and disturbed suspect._

_Finally Cho and Lisbon burst through the door, guns pointed and zeroing in on Dawes, who had inched his way to the other door. Jane couldn't be happier to see them. He had been busy inching away, keeping a table between himself and Dawes._

"_Mr. Dawes, put the gun down," Lisbon said, the high tension in her voice barely perceptible to Jane. Both she and Cho had their guns unwaveringly aimed at their suspect as Lisbon slowly stepped her way closer to Jane and Cho going around the other way._

"_Stop! Moving!" hysteria edged Dawes' voice, his gun waving again, unable to decide who to point at now that there were three targets._

"_Jimmy, you should calm down and listen these nice agents," Jane said, his soothing voice on full, as if attempting to hypnotize Jimmy from across the room._

_The twitchy man swung his gun towards Jane as he yelled, "Stop! Talking!"_

"_JANE!"_

_It all happened quickly, as Jane flinched, eyes closing as he hit the deck he saw Lisbon jump between the two tables, a sharp, deafening blast all occurring seemingly simultaneously._

_Jane pushed himself off the cold, hard floor and scrambled around the table. Cho was standing by where Dawes was, calling for medical attention on his phone, face grim. Jane only saw Lisbon, sprawled out on concrete, blood blooming through her t-shirt under her chest._

"_Lisbon?!" Jane called out as he kneeled down by her._

_Her eyes were fluttering, she panted in short breaths and coughed, an ominous sucking sound accompanying her increasingly futile attempts at breathing._

_Cho rushed over, Dawes was dead, the agent having shot him in the head fraction of a second after the murder suspect shot Lisbon. He pushed the consultant out of the way, peeling the senior agent's bloody shirt up, exposing the bullet wound in her ribs. The sucking sound was coming from the wound._

"_Jane! Find some plastic, tape, anything airtight," Cho ordered tersely as the blond man stared blankly. Given instructions he sprung into action, muttering to himself, "Nonononono, this isn't happening."_

_He remembered he had a cough drop in his pocket, pulled it out and unwrapped the wax paper, letting the drop fall to the floor as he handed the rumpled square to Cho who had his hands pressed against Lisbon's wound. The Asian man took the small paper and spread it out against the hole, using his fingers to hold it down, hoping air would be able to escape from the space he left open on one side._

"_Jane, I need tape, or something sticky- damnit, where's that ambulance?" Cho's stern mask was starting to slip. Lisbon's eyes no longer fluttered as her head lolled to the side, but her rapid, short breaths still continued. He needed to remain calm, if only for Jane who had already started looking helpless and would be no use without a cool head to direct him. He heard drawers and cabinet doors banging open and finally the shrill screams of ambulances and squad cars in the distance._

_Jane was back at Cho's side and shoved a roll of duct tape in the agents face._

"_Come on! Tear that into small pieces," Cho instructed, he almost wanted to throttle that man if only to vent his frustration, but he kept his voice as near to his usual monotone as he could. Didn't he have to take first aid training when he joined their team?_

_Jane fumbled with the tape then tore pieces off for Cho, who took a piece at a time, sealing all but a corner of the wax paper down._

"_Keep her comfortable while I direct the EMTs here," Cho said, eyes meeting briefly before he stood up and ran out of the room._

_Jane pulled his jacket off, rolling it up and gently sliding it under the small woman's head. He picked up her hand, her fingertips cold. He leaned down and spoke softly, "You can't leave me. You can't leave us. I know you'll be all right, otherwise you wouldn't be able to keep me in line like no one else can. Minelli won't like that. Think of all the trouble I'll be causing. Well, I know I cause trouble anyway, but imagine what it'd be like if you weren't there to rein me in. Minelli would probably have a heart attack, or retire. Whichever comes first."_

_The door crashed open; he heard voices shouting and strong hands hauling him away from Lisbon. He instinctively fought a moment before raising his hands and backing off a bit, realizing the hands were Cho's. He had stopped pulling Jane away, but kept one hand firmly on his shoulder. Jane wasn't certain if it was to keep him there or to support Cho. He didn't care. He watched as the EMTs swarmed the scene, checking Lisbon's vitals. Her breathing had stopped. Though he hadn't moved, Cho's hand tightened on Jane's shoulder in a bruising grip, though his face remained an impassive mask made of stone._

_One of the EMTs placed a mask over Lisbon's face, trying to pump her lungs with air as the other had cut away the blood soaked shirt, revealing a simple white sports bra, the bottom edge of which was also stained in red. He pulled a needle and tubing out, aligning the needle between her ribs away from her wound and smoothly pushed it in. They gathered her up and onto a gurney rushing her past the startled Rigsby and Van Pelt who had just entered. They left the building running into flashing blue and red lights. Jane ran up to the ambulance, ready to jump in, but was thwarted by another paramedic who said, "I'm sorry sir, you can't go in. We need room to work on her."_

_With that the doors closed and the ambulance sped off, sirens screaming._

"When we got here she was in the emergency room," Jane cleared his throat, his eyes watering, not noticing that Michael's eyes were watering as well.

"We all waited to find out what was going on, your sister is a fighter though," he added.

"Don't I know it," the dark haired man said with a soggy laugh. He wiped his eyes and coughed, features grim as he studied the blond man across from him. He spoke again, voice roughened with emotion, "I was thinking I'd have to pop that head of yours off," he began ruefully, "but after hearing what happened I know Tessa'd kill me for taking away her right. She's always saving us, even when we don't deserve it. I figure it's so she could rub it in our faces later, and there's nothing we can say."

"Hm," Jane agreed, having leaned back in his chair again after seeing that Michael wasn't going to attack him. He knew he had already filled his quota on having his nose punched for the month. Though he'd make an exception for his Lisbon if only to see anger on her face, as that was better than the blank unconsciousness she currently had.

Michael rubbed his eyes and looked on tiredly; he had dark smudges under his eyes that could almost rival the ones under the CBI consultant's eyes. Jane's curiosity returned as he asked, "So did you fly in?"

"Huh? Ah, yah, as soon as I got the call about Tessa I took the first plane here. Boss gave me indefinite leave of absence," Lisbon's brother replied.

"Firefighter?"

"Yah."

They were the only ones present in the lounge now. Silence spread between them like molasses.

"Look," Michael started, "I appreciate you sitting with her and all these last coupla days, but…"

Jane could sense where this was going, but nodded anyway as he stood up. Of course the brother would want to spend time with his sister, Jane had pushed it enough as it was with the nurses. There'd be no way they'd let both of them in there with Lisbon.

"I'll just head out, but I'll be back in the morning," Jane said as he stood up.

Michael looked up gratefully at him and stood up as well, offering his hand to Jane. Jane looked down at the calloused hand and took his own hand out of his pocket. They gave each other a firm shake and walked off.

Patrick Jane walked down a street lit by street lamps, passing car headlights, and a few illuminated store signs. The streets glittered in color as it had apparently stopped raining shortly before he left the hospital. He could have called a taxi, but didn't want to risk getting a chatty driver. He heard the rumbling of a bus from behind him that was going his way and paused at the bus stop.

When the consultant finally arrived at the CBI headquarters security had changed to night shift. He flashed his identification tag to Carl, who was on watch, and took the elevator up to his floor, tired of walking now.

A few lights were on, indicating that some agents were working late. Minelli had given their team two days off, after which Cho would become their interim leader until Lisbon returned to work. That was the only option that had been discussed, and as far as they were concerned, it was the only option. Period. Jane predicted that Rigsby and Van Pelt were likely in each others' arms right now, comforting themselves while Cho was probably with his sister's family, reminding himself why it was that he became a cop.

Jane walked to Lisbon's office, pausing at the door imagining her head bent over her desk as she filed reports and paperwork (which included complaints about a certain curly, blond-haired ex-TV-psychic-turned-CBI consultant) to the light of her desk lamp. He opened the door and turned on the aforementioned lamp to find neatly stack files and papers on her desk, though a mug half full of coffee (now quite cold and undrinkable) sat next to the folders. Also a few crumbs she had missed when swiping her hand over the surface. He was certain the debris was the remains of the blueberry muffin he had given her along with a disposable cup of coffee the last morning she had been in the office, the day she was shot.

He ambled around her desk and stood by her office chair, leaning over to look at the papers left on top. He studied her handwriting, while it would by no means win contests, it was definitive, neat, small, and easy to read, much like the owner. But perhaps by being seemingly so easy to read, in present actions and thoughts, she was the most deceptive of all. He could read her surface thoughts without trying much of the time, but what drove her to be the person she is was still a mystery. Who had shaped her handwriting? Was it modeled after her parent's style of writing, that of her teachers, both, or maybe just practice worksheets as she traced letters in crayon.

Jane appeared to be staring through Lisbon's desk as he thought and realized how extremely tired he was. He was also rather grungy, though he had changed at the insistence of the others while waiting for Lisbon's surgery to finish (some blood had gotten on his shirt and vest from when Cho had pulled him away and gripped his shoulder to keep him out of the way of the paramedics), he hadn't gotten around to shaving and showering. He probably stank, though no one had mentioned it, everyone caught up in their own thoughts and worries. Well, he was too tired to care much, though he would make it a point to visit the locker room in the morning for a shower and change into the spare suit he kept in his desk.

He flicked off the lamp and left the senior agent's office, leaving the door open, as he walked to his couch and laid on it. He tried to think of Lisbon in her office, working, but when he closed his eyes, alone again after two nights of sitting by her hospital bed, all he could see was her shock induced pale skin, strands of dark hair disturbing the white, and the rapidly growing bright red bloom of blood unfurling against her shirt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:** Again, thank you Yana/Yaba! This awesome beta edits quickly like nobody's business.

I appreciate the reviews you leave. Thanks go out to lisbon69 (you'll see what happens… though perhaps not as much naughtiness… :-P), cureless (many thanks for your praises, good suggestions, we'll see if I get around to it though since I've already written the whole thing… I'm glad it made you feel as though you were living it), Famous4it (hope you had a Merry X-Mas and have a Happy New Year), Anne, Nancy (fluff yay!), Country2776, yaba , and starbuckfaerie21.

Please read and review!

**Chapter 3**

Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt walked together to the nurse's station near the ICU. It was their lunch break, but they had stayed in the office all morning working on much of the paperwork waiting for their signatures, completing and confirming reports of the horrible night only three day previous. The Dawes case was pretty open and shut, forensics reports and witness accounts matching up neatly. Lisbon would have appreciated the rather tidy case until it got the ending result of the dead suspect. Jane and Cho would both have to visit the new department shrink; the former for having been at the wrong end of the revolver, and Cho for having shot the suspect. Rigsby and Van Pelt would as well since this traumatic event involved their team. Though all would be reluctant to see the psychologist after the ordeal Lisbon had been through with the last and no one in the department would blame them.

"I'll bet five bucks that Jane's sleeping against the boss' bed," Rigsby said to Cho, if only to break the silence between them.

"Deal," was Cho's response. Neither of them had their heart in their usual banter, but went along with it if only to maintain some normalcy in this grim situation. Van Pelt looked worriedly at both men, the words "How could you joke at a time like this?" at the tip of her tongue, but then recognized it was their coping mechanism.

The three signed in and walked down the hall. When they turned the corner to Lisbon's wing they saw Jane slumped back in a chair across from her room, staring through the window. Why he wasn't in the room with her was the question lingering in all their minds. _'Maybe the nurses finally kicked him out,'_ thought Van Pelt.

As they neared him, they were surprised to see that he had apparently taken a shower, was shaved, and wearing a clean suit. They had stopped by during the day the previous two days, asking Jane how their boss was doing and bringing him food, though they hadn't seen him actually eat what they brought to him.

Jane slowly blinked and turned his head to them, giving them a cheerless smile, acknowledging their presence. Though he was clean now, his eyes remained baggy and bloodshot. Rigsby reached out and patted their consultant on the shoulder as Van Pelt studied Jane. Cho turned to look through the window into the ICU and saw that Lisbon wasn't alone. A dark-haired man sat next to their boss. It looked like he was speaking to her, grasping her hand while doing so.

"That's Lisbon's younger brother Michael, he flew in yesterday," Jane supplied, answering their silent questions.

Jane noticed Van Pelt's admiring gaze when she turned to look through the window. Rigsby had also turned to look and sent uneasy glances between their boss' brother and his love interest when he noticed the appreciative look in her eyes. Jane laughed internally at the byplay, too easy to read.

"Don't worry Rigsby, he's married," Jane jibed, he just couldn't help himself.

"Uh- what? I mean- what are you talking about?" Rigsby stuttered, his face flushing slightly. Cho smirked as Van Pelt briefly looked mortified, bringing it back under control as she first shot Jane a displeased look that said 'Why did you say that?' then glanced up to Rigsby with a look she hoped would communicate 'I was just looking, but he doesn't hold a candle to you. I love you,' and reassure the big, lovable oaf. Rigsby looked down at her, eyes tinged with panicked paranoia as they darted to Jane, 'He knows about us! Who else knows?!'

Jane quirked one of his trademark guileless smiles, the same one that appeared on his face just before he'd say something that would cause aghast looks on most, and cause a few to punch him in the nose. Those few were still too many. He did not by any means want a crooked or ski jump nose to ruin his good looks, nor was he particularly fond of pain.

The firefighter finally looked up and noticed that the audience had increased significantly, he acknowledged them, the corner of his lips pulling back in what was probably an attempt at a smile, but looked more like a grimace. Dimples appeared. Jane shook his head to himself, a bit unnerved by all the similarities he had spotted between the dark-haired siblings. At least the team's Lisbon had that charming uneven smile which dimpled on her left cheek and creased the other cheek in a way that couldn't be called a dimple. He loved her smile, a very rare and very beautiful event when it happened properly. Then there were all those bemused not-quite-smiles in response to some of the things he said or did.

Jane shook himself, noticing Michael standing up from the chair next to the bed, leaning over to lightly kiss his sister's brow before he walked to the hall. Jane had had much less restful sleep than usual, which was little enough as it was. His mind wandered quite easily to the point of distraction, nodding off would be simple, but as the case with his original insomnia he was afraid of what he'd see when he did finally succumb.

As soon as Michael closed the ICU doors behind him, Cho stepped up and offered a hand, "I'm Cho, this is Rigsby and Van Pelt. We're Lisbon's team at the CBI."

When Cho introduced himself, a flicker of recognition lit the tall man's eyes.

"Oh yah, hey I think I remember Tessa mentioning your name before. I'm Michael Lisbon," he said, smiling, shaking hands with Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt. Rigsby had straightened, sizing up his supposed competition, slightly mollified that he was at least an inch taller than the other man, but squeezed his hand just a tad too tightly for good measure, though Michael Lisbon seemed unfazed and blissfully unaware of the power play.

Jane felt a pang of jealousy, _'Lisbon mentioned Cho and not me?'_

"Tessa? Is that what you call Boss?" Van Pelt asked, amusement coloring her voice, "That's just… cute," she hesitated at her choice of words. It was strange to attach a descriptor such as "cute" to their tough-as-nails boss who could take down men more than twice her size.

Michael let out half a guffaw and replied, his worn eyes lighting up, "Yah, I know, she can be a hellcat. 'Cute' isn't exactly part of her vocabulary, but it's a nickname me and our younger brothers have been calling her since forever. Don't let her hear you say she's cute though, I'm sure it'll ruin her rep at the office. Then she'll be kicking all your asses just to prove how not 'cute' she is."

"Don't I know it," Rigsby grumbled to himself, thinking of a few stakeout details he had previously been punished with, causing Cho to smirk.

"Well, if you don't mind I'd like to just go in and see her for a bit?" Grace requested.

"She's all yours," Michael responded.

" 'Younger brothers'? Just how many Lisbons are there?" Rigsby asked, continuing the line of conversation, his brows flashing up in avid interest (and possibly slight concern of an army of attractive Lisbon men coming to steal away Grace's attentions).

"Just two others, Tessa's the eldest and I'm second. I've been trying to reach the other two, but have only gotten their answering machines and voice mail. I think they're on tour right now which would explain how I haven't gotten a call back from John-John, and Kev. Well, he isn't all that dependable on checking messages and calling back," Michael explained, leaning back onto a wall and crossing his arms.

" 'On tour'?" Cho prompted, also having crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside Michael.

"Ah yah, John's a drummer in his band; I doubt you'd have heard of them, they're not big or anything. And Kev, well, he doesn't really have a job, but helps out being a roadie for John's band when they go out on tour."

All the team members involved were very interested to hear about Lisbon's personal life. They had likely learned more about her in the 5 minutes of conversation with her brother than they had in the few years they've worked with her.

Van Pelt came back out holding the door open, Cho motioned to Rigsby with his chin, the tall(-est) man answering with a nod as he hesitantly stepped into the room. They watched him pace a moment, seeming unsure of what to do with himself, and then he finally settled with taking a seat. He awkwardly looked around and noticed everyone staring at him. He flushed and pointedly turned his back on them as the others looked away.

"So, where did you fly in from?" Van Pelt asked the firefighter, seating herself in the chair next to Jane.

"Jersey," he stated, "had to wait in the airport forever trying to get a plane out here, and had to change planes twice. Of course my first plane runs late so I miss the connection in Texas and had to wait for the next flight. I probably spent more time in airports than the planes trying to get out here."

"Yah, I know what you mean," Grace sympathized.

Rigsby came back into the hall as Grace ended her sentence, and motioned to Cho. His mouth pinched together as he subtly shifted closer to his secret girlfriend, then shifted away, shooting a look at Jane, overcompensating for the consultant's earlier remark. Though Cho's face remained his norm in expression, his eyes almost danced in contained laughter.

He didn't even smirk… yet. He caught a lot of things by not talking, he ended up blending into the background, and then people eventually didn't pay attention to him, allowing him to study actions the unwitting subjects of his scrutiny may have thought they had hidden from others. Cho, Jane, and Lisbon knew that the two younger agents, Rigsby and Van Pelt, were attracted to each other, but didn't know what their relationship status was. Though Cho wondered if Jane knew something he didn't.

Cho walked into Lisbon's room and pulled the chair closer to her bed, Rigsby's long legs having placed it further away.

"Hey Lisbon," Cho began, as if talking to her during an ordinary day at the office, "excited about your brother being here? Maybe not. You don't really talk about him or your other brothers much anyway. I doubt you'd like Jane and your brother talking to each other too long. Think of all the dirt he'd get on you."

Maybe she had heard him, or more likely, in Cho's pragmatic mind, it was coincidence. But Lisbon's eyes fluttered open as he finished his sentence. He stood up immediately and leaned over her. Jane noticed the sudden activity, leaving his chair and entering the room to the confusion of the others in the hall.

"Lisbon?" Cho questioned, noticing her unfocused eyes. She blinked a couple times, then hers eyes closed again.

Jane walked over to the other side of her bed and reached out, tapping her cheek. "Lisbon?" There was no response.

"What's happening?" a worried Michael asked.

A nurse making her rounds decided to come at that moment, noticing the commotion, and asked in an authoritative voice, "What is going on here? Everyone out, we don't need everyone going in at the same time."

Cho spoke up, "She opened her eyes."

"Let me see," said the nurse, pushing past the tall men with her petite body as though they were overgrown grass. She walked over to the bed, Cho stepping aside.

"Ms. Lisbon? Hello?" the nurse asked. She pursed her lips, then picked up the patient's hand, pinching at Lisbon's fingertip. Not getting the response she wanted she put the hand down and placed her own dark hand on the side of the agent's face, placing a thumb on Lisbon's brow, rubbing it.

"May I ask what you are doing to her?" Jane asked anxiously, hovering from the side. The others had come into the room, but tried to give the nurse her work space.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," sarcastic humor edged her voice, "I'm checking her responses to various stimuli. Did she just open her eyes? Or were you talking to her when she did?" she directed this at Cho who was standing beside her.

"I was talking to her, then she opened her eyes, but they didn't look focused," he dutifully reported, watching what she was doing.

The nurse stopped rubbing Lisbon's brow ridges and walked over to the end of the bed, picking up the chart left hanging there. She pulled out a pen and wrote down notes. Everyone watched her.

"Well, that's an improvement. She has been rating a three on the GCS since she got here. That she opened her eyes at all is a step in the right direction," she saw that everyone was hanging on to her every word, all very anxious and with almost visible question marks on their faces. She continued, resting the clipboard in front of her, "I know you're all worried, and though I can't make any promises, I think we can be a bit optimistic now. It's normal for coma patients to start out with brief moments of consciousness. The hope is that each time it happens, she'll be awake longer and know what's going on around her. It can take a long time."

"She won't just wake up and be okay?" Rigsby asked earnestly, leaning towards the nurse from the doorway.

The little dark medical professional gave him a shake of her head as she responded, "That only happens in the movies. People don't just come out of comas ready to go back to work and on with their lives. It's a gradual process that could possibly take up to a few months to recover from fully. Of course we won't know any of that until she stays awake longer. She'll probably be confused at first; of course since she has been in a deep coma and her body is still recovering from her collapsed lung, she still has that endotracheal tube in her mouth which won't allow her to speak, even if she was able to.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go notify her doctor of her condition. If you have any further questions you can ask her."

The previously dreary crowd's moral had certainly improved, though they wished they had been able to talk to Teresa Lisbon.

After the doctor came and went, answering a few more questions, and telling them not to get too excited, the CBI junior agents bid farewell and left the hospital. Jane and Lisbon's brother remained in the room, thinking to themselves.

Reluctantly, Jane decided it was time for him to go. Had no one else been there he would have preferred to stay at Lisbon's side, but as it was he didn't like the thought of sharing the bedside with her brother. He preferred to make others feel awkward and not experience it himself. With how tired he was presently it wouldn't take much.

"Well," he broke the silence, "I'm going to leave you two alone."

As Jane turned his three-piece suited body, Michael seemed to gather himself and spoke up, "Uh, wait."

Jane turned back, an inquiring look on his face as he stood with hands in his pockets.

Michael rubbed the back of his neck, looked up from the floor with entreating eyes, "Um, I kinda came over here without a plan aside from seeing Tessa. I was wondering if you have her house keys and maybe could take me to her house?"

Jane thought about the request quickly. Had it been anyone else he may have cheerfully said "no" and turned right around leaving them. But as it was Lisbon's brother… it would give him an opportunity to study Lisbon's apartment more thoroughly and perhaps find out more of her guarded past.

Mind made up, Patrick Jane gave a smile (the kind that would alarm Lisbon and make her wonder how many pages of reports she'd have to file for the incident he was about to commit) and replied pleasantly, "I do believe Lisbon left her keys in her office. Let's go."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** Some of you noted the believability of medical what-not in my previous chapters. Thank you very much for noticing! I had basic first aid and CPR training during which I learned how to do what I described Cho doing for Lisbon when she was shot. But as I'm not a doctor… I did a lot of research on the internet (not always the best place, but easier than other ways) and went to wikipedia and medical websites to look up information about comas, collapsed lungs, uses of endotracheal tubes, chest tubes, and healing after broken ribs and such. I did my best in looking up this information and describing this in my story.

Thank you to the following people for leaving a review: lisbon69, Yana/Yaba (my awesome beta!), Nancy, Charmed225, cureless (sorry, no tidbit… but hey, new chapter instead ), mtm, Chiisana Minako (YAY! Cookie! *happily munches cookie* I like fluff, but none in this chapter, sorry), Katharen Silver, Famous4it, starbuckfaerie21, and MOSI3.

Happy New Year everyone!

**Chapter 4**

Two men were kicking back in Teresa Lisbon's living room. Each held a beer in his hand and was, for the moment, comfortable.

The television was on (they discovered, much to the men's disappointment, that she didn't have any channels beyond the basic). Michael had asked if Jane wanted to come in for a beer. Though Jane didn't much care for beer (and generally avoided alcohol as it could throw him off his game, though he did enjoy a nice wine now and then, or a shot of tequila to cheer Lisbon up) he accepted the invitation for the chance it presented. The chance to dig more into Lisbon's past.

"So Patrick," Michael broke the silence between them, studying his beer, "what is your relationship with my sister?"

Jane was just barely able to swallow the sip of beer in his mouth without choking and coolly placed the beer down on the floor.

"We're just coworkers," Jane answered while thinking, _'This is not how it was supposed to go.'_

"If you were just coworkers why have you been at the hospital constantly? Cho and them came in for a visit during their lunch break. They're coworkers and friends. You lied to the nurses and told them you're her husband. I'm sure your real wife would be pissed off to find out about that and Tessa will kick your ass as soon as she hears that you did something so stupid," Michael's gray eyes pierced Patrick's, then he took a swig of his beer, eyes drifting over to the TV.

Jane looked down at his wedding band, the cause for this misunderstanding, or part of it at least. He fiddled with it, twisting the ring on his finger. He spoke softly, "My wife was murdered six years ago."

Michael's head snapped back to Jane, eyes wide, "Jesus! I'm sorry man. I didn't know-"

Jane had on a humorless smile, "Of course you didn't. Any normal person who saw someone with a wedding band on would assume they're married," he stopped twisting his ring and looked up at the Lisbon perpendicular to him, "and you're a faithful, married man aren't you?"

Jane would have normally said such a thing in a certain tone of voice as to make it sound like a challenge that would have a person teetering on annoyance kicked over the edge into a rage, but you didn't grow up a Lisbon and not be able to read people a bit better than average. However that question may have sounded, at this time it was an honest question and not a sarcastic jibe.

"Happily married with two kids," came the somber reply.

"How's Lisbon as an aunt?" Jane inquired, finally steering the conversation onto safer ground, knowing he had a reprieve for the moment and not above using the excuse.

"Fine I guess, she doesn't come home much to visit, always says she's busy with a case or something. No rest for the wicked means no rest for the law enforcement."

Jane didn't bother correcting the phrase, because it made him smile.

"But when she _is_ over," Michael continued, taking another sip of his near empty beer bottle, "she's great with the kids, almost spoils them. You'd think she'd be strict with them with the way we grew up."

"Oh?" Jane knew an opening when he saw one. Seeing that Michael was almost finished with his drink, he got up with his own barely touched bottle, "Hey, I'm going to get another drink. Do you want one?"

"Uh, sure."

Jane came back with two beers, making a show of drinking from his bottle (the same one he took to the woefully small corner that the leasers of the building dared call a "cozy kitchen") and handed a cold one to Michael. He didn't have to know that Jane was boozing him up to help make him easier to ply.

"So, what was it like growing up in the Lisbon household?" Jane asked in his soothing voice, allowing Michael to settle in with his new beer. This Lisbon's guard was down due to the discovery of Jane's wife having been murdered and though he wasn't even buzzed yet, the beer helped just a small fraction. Then there was Patrick Jane who was highly skilled in his field of hypnosis (among less flattering things) and charm necessary in the con games he used to play.

"When Mom was around everything was okay. With four kids the money was a bit tight, but we didn't really notice. Tessa was bigger than us then and would try to boss us around, but when there were three boys to one girl we had her on the run sometimes. I guess she had to get tough quickly. Sometimes John-John would team up with her against me, or I'd team up with her against our younger brothers. Your enemy that morning could be your ally that night, or an hour later, well you know, kids being kids. She could keep up with any of us, could tackle and full-Nelson us in an instant.

"Though when she was with Mom she'd calm down and they'd do girly stuff. The women of the house had to stick together sometimes I guess, the house being overrun with boys and all."

Both men smiled at the thought. Then the smile faded from Michael's face, which had started to become scruffy as he hadn't shaved since arriving in Sacramento.

"Then Mom died on her way to pick Tessa up from Volleyball practice. Hit by a drunk driver," Michael added bitterly, taking another swig from his beer, looking at the bottle in his hand ironically. Patrick could tell that the bitterness had worn down some over the years, it was an old wound that was acknowledged, but some days felt more painful with the change of the weather. He wondered if he himself would ever get to that point.

Red John still haunted him daily, the hopelessness of his loss having been transformed to an almost blinding rage, which he had tamed and kept caged, simmering in the dark corner of his mind as he plotted revenge. It had been six years and he was still biding his time until he could end Red John. Still wore his wedding band as a reminder to keep to his path.

"Then everything changed," Michael continued, not noticing the dark turn of Patrick's thoughts.

Jane pushed away his thoughts, refocusing on the brother who was revealing family history.

"Dad lost it. At first he was just crying all the time, didn't go to work. The neighbors helped out, stopping by, checking on us, bringing food. Our priest came by a couple of times, people from our church helped sometimes. That only lasted for so long…"

_Father Connelly knelt on one knee in front of Teresa and her brothers, who were crying inconsolably. He was a balding man with a sagging face and usually appeared quite stern, which frightened the children in church. But that day his face seemed to be softened by kindness as he told them that they would have to be strong for their father. Teresa screwed up her face, swiping her arm under her runny nose, trying to hold in her sobbing for the priest. He put a hand on Teresa's small shoulder, the first weight that seemed to be transferred to her and would continue through her life, though she did not know it then. Father Connelly used his other had to search in the inner pocket of his grey wool overcoat. Wrapped around his fingers was her mother's gold cross necklace._

"_I was able to get this from the rescue workers," he told her solemnly, releasing her shoulder and unclasping the hook in the chain, bringing it around the young girl's neck and hooking it. "Your mother would have wanted you to have it."_

_Teresa looked down at the small cross, touching it reverently with her fingers. Though small, it too added a certain weight to her shoulders in a way she could not describe._

"…Then Dad started drinking more and more. Of course us kids were all sad too. Kev didn't quite understand what all was going on. He was only six then. He'd keep asking where Mommy was and Dad would storm off. I guess Tessa started realizing that Dad couldn't take care of us anymore. It probably really hit her when the neighbors stopped coming by and we had no food. She had stopped her afterschool activities, with no parents to sign in and to pick her up she couldn't anyway, and the fees of course.

"Our grades slipped. The teachers were sympathetic knowing our mom died, but then it was as if everyone forgot. They treated us like nothing was wrong, which wasn't that bad. The other kids noticed our dirty clothes, made fun of us. Tessa would find out about it when Kev or John-John would come home crying. She'd find out who made fun of us and go beat them up. It got to the point that people would see us and think we were just dirty, violent brats. I could overhear some of the other parents talking to each other, as if we can't hear them or see how they looked at us.

"Dad would go out to the bars and stay out all day. When he remembered he'd bring us something to eat, but he started forgetting more and more. Tessa started sneaking money out of Dad's wallet when he was sleeping and did her best to get us food. Dad started noticing, would come home and yell at us for taking his money. He never used to yell at us so much before Mom died. We'd hide behind Tessa until it was all over. Most times he'd ignore us, but sometimes something would just not sit right with him suddenly while he was drinking and he'd come after us. Maybe it was a call from one of our teachers about a fight we got into at school, or our grades, or he just decided he needed to take out his grief on one of us…"

_Tessa was carefully measuring out the powder laundry detergent as she had seen her mother do many times before, while Kev was sitting on the upturned laundry basket watching her. Their clothes had gotten noticeably dirty again, food stains working themselves in with the dirt. She didn't want to see her brothers coming home crying again. Kev's teacher had pinned a note to his chest for their father, who was probably out at the bar again. The note mentioned her worry about Kev continually wearing the same clothes and how dirty they've gotten._

_The echo of the front door slamming open caused Tessa to start, dropping the measuring scoop and detergent powder on the floor._

"_TERESA!" the angry yell of her father reverberated through the halls. Her heart beat quickened, Kev started whimpering, having gotten up and buried his head into her stomach. They heard their father stomping around, clearly looking for her._

"_Be quiet, we gotta hide," she whispered to her brother, grabbing him by the hand and running to the back door. Mikey and John-John weren't home yet, playing at a park on the way home from school. She didn't have to worry about them for now._

_They heard their father stomping around to their rooms, looking, and took the opportunity to run out the back. They ran and hid in the bushes that surrounded their neighbor's yard, a worn spot where they used to pretend it was a fort. They stayed crouched, Tessa pulling Kev's face into her small chest and shushing at him to stay quiet. Her heart pounding painfully against her ribs as though she had played a game of tag. Branches poked into them uncomfortably as they pushed as far back into them as they could. Her back still ached from the last time their father had caught her during one of his foul moods._

"…By then we knew to stay outta his way. When we heard him start stomping down the hall, we'd go run and hide. But we were unlucky sometimes. Tessa tried to stop it if she could, try distracting Dad so we could get away, but then she'd be his target. The yelling would stop and we knew it was safe then to come out. I saw her cry a couple times, but she'd try to hide it, check on us and make sure we were okay. The bastard would wake up the next day and forget what had happened. On days he decided to give us a glance he'd ask, 'What happened?' then go back to staring at a wall or the TV. Those were the good days by then."

Jane sat still, righteous anger bubbling within him, and with nothing to say as there really wasn't anything that could be said. "I'm sorry about your horrible childhood" didn't cut it. How could anyone stand by and not do anything about this? Certainly the teachers would have noticed… but he had grown up in the same era, back then people were mostly still looking the other way. It was easier to not get involved.

"As we got older we stayed out of the house more. Tessa got a job for after school. She said none of us were going to quit school since that wasn't what Mom would have wanted. She knew education was important. She washed dishes at a diner and they'd give her leftovers. That kept us pretty well fed at night. For our birthdays she'd bring home a pie.

"Tessa'd keep telling us not to worry, we had to try not to flunk school, and she'd take care of everything. One time I stole a bottle of SoCo from Dad to share with my buddies. I came home drunk in the middle of the night and Tessa was so pissed. She just laid into me, screamed at me and that just got me pissed off, and I was drunk and stupid, and I just yelled back and told her that she's not my mother," Michael paused in his narrative, his eyes closed, seeming to relive that moment, "I had never seen that look on her face before. She just suddenly went white, stopped yelling, I could just see that I crushed her heart. She just turned around and left me standing there. I felt so bad after that. I couldn't get around to telling her I was sorry and didn't mean it, but I never came home drunk again. The next day she acted as if nothing happened.

"John-John had been teaching Kev how to skateboard, they'd go to some parking lot, or somewhere, after school and stay out until the sun came down, and even then they sometimes stayed out. We all tried to stay out of the house until Tessa got done with work so we could eat. A couple times we went to the diner where she worked, but her boss told us we couldn't anymore since it made the costumers uncomfortable and we didn't have someone to watch us," Michael paused in his narrative, lips white as they pressed together tightly. He stared down at the brown bottle in his hands.

"Dad finally shot himself when I was fifteen. Tessa was a senior in high school. She decided on trying for the police academy. During the summers she had worked double shifts and took a second job trying to save up to take care of us. Me and John-John started working too, but Tessa told us only weekends so that we could get our school work done during the week. Barely passed by the skin of our teeth, but she pushed us to do better. I don't think she got much sleep in with doing her own homework, working after school and all. Kev was still in sixth grade by then. Tessa really tried to shield him from what all was going on. It didn't help that there were three boys going through puberty and getting all moody on her. She must have wanted to smack some sense into us all the time. But me, John-John, and Tessa remembered what life used to be like when Mom was alive. Kev barely remembers Mom at all. Tessa was with her the longest, had a solid twelve years of her life with her. She knew what a normal family was supposed to be like. She tried so hard for us, even if we didn't appreciate it at the time, mouthed off at her," Michael's eyes grew watery with remorse as he stared at the empty beer bottle in his hands. Patrick sat quietly, watching steadily, digesting what he heard. The lamp light and television lit the room in a half cast, an orange pink hue covering them from the setting sun.

"When Dad was still alive, we had tried so hard to please him. We used to watch baseball with him, played tee-ball and softball, but when he just didn't care about us anymore… after Dad died, even after all he did to us, Tessa was still devastated. Even after all that crap that bastard put us through, he was still our father. Me and John-John skipped out on the funeral, but she was able to get Kev to go with her. It wasn't much of a funeral really, Tessa had him cremated. It was cheaper than getting a casket and burying him. She and Kev spread his ashes over Mom's grave so he could finally be with her. I didn't think he deserved it after the hell he put us through, but somehow Tessa was able to muster enough pity to go through with it. At the time I'd have just tossed him in the trash. Lucky I wasn't there, I'm thankful now that she was able to do that.

"She really tried hard to keep us on the straight and narrow. Somehow she corralled us and told us how we couldn't do anything to bring attention to ourselves until she was able to become our legal guardian. She was seventeen when Dad died and it'd be another month until she was eighteen. She'd gone down to the city library and city hall during the little free time she had and researched. But of course people found out our dad died, the schools remembered that we only had our dad and before you know it Social Services were at our door. Why it took them so long I don't know. We got split up and put into foster care for a while, but Tessa tried to pull through for us when she was finally eighteen. She was denied guardianship at first, but finally after graduating high school she was able to get into the police academy. When she graduated the program and was getting paid she tried again and finally they let us live with her. I was still being a shit, but senior year I started thinking. I did what I could and graduated. That's when I signed on with the Army. I figured it'd make Tessa proud. Of course I didn't realize that there was a civil war going on in Somalia and was deployed after I finished training.

"While I was away, I found out that Kev tried to kill himself. I guess me leaving was the final straw. Everyone was always leaving him. Things had seemed to finally go our way then it all got blown to hell I thought. I guess John-John really pulled through for Tessa and Kev. He graduated and worked construction to stay near them. Tessa'd sold the house and moved us to an apartment when she got us. A fresh start was what it was supposed to be. John-John and Tessa did their best raising Kev. Between the two of them someone was always home, but by the time I got back Kev had dropped out due to depression. John-John got Kev interested in life again through skateboarding. I moved back in and spent time with them all, and with three other people in the house again we got Kev to get his GED. He continued with skateboarding and started competing. Sure, we wished he chose something that would bring in a steady income, but at this point he's pretty happy with what he's doing and finally being the kid he didn't get to be when he was growing up.

"Now Kev and John-John share an apartment. Kev still boards, he's even worked with some video game companies, did the body suit thing so that the game play is more real. John-John still does construction, bartends and is in a band. He's a mellow guy, guess we had to have one to balance the rest of us out."

Jane sat in a stunned silence. The sky had long since become dark, streetlights were lit outside. He knew Lisbon had issues, had heard some mention that night Dr. Carmen was in this room, and had pieced together probable causes studying her personality, behavior, control issues. Having blackouts terrified her, it was a loss of control… and her father had had blackouts.

Normally having his hunches confirmed gave him an ego boost like no other, a smug smile, but not this time. There was a lifetime's worth of no control for Lisbon, the death of her mother, the descent into alcoholism for her father, and the subsequent neglect and abuse suffered at that man's hands. She did what she could. Should it be a surprise that she'd want to be able to have a rule book to follow with predictable outcomes and to be able to take control where she could? Never knowing when her father was going to get angry, when he'd remember to bring food, when he was going to be home, when he would be awake… She had to grow up quickly to survive in an environment like that. They all did.

Now that Patrick knew what he knew about Lisbon, he felt as though he had cheated his Lisbon out of this experience. He really should have heard about this from her own mouth to be on even ground on this one thing amongst their constant switching roles of cat and mouse, trying to stay one step ahead of the other when it came to their inner thoughts and feelings.

He found having his hunches and curiosity answered was very gratifying. After a case was solved, he was ready to move on to the next thing, a solved case very rarely held any interest to him. But he was finding he'd make an exception for Lisbon. He may know what had happened, but there are so many details and memories he'd like to hear about, if only she'd open up. He wouldn't mind at all staying near her to learn all that she knows.

Michael had given a sigh that seemed to deflate his whole body as he fully relaxed back into the sofa cushions. He rolled his head to face Patrick and wondered what his sister's coworker was thinking.

"You know, you never answered my question: what's your relationship with my sister?" he asked tiredly.

Jane made eye contact and answered truthfully, "We're really close friends. If that changes, she'll be the first one to know."

Jane didn't add, of course, that the change that would happen was likely to be the loss of their friendship on the day he finally caught up to Red John and killed him. Red John was still his number one priority. If such a day as he was responsible for the murder of Red John arrived he was certain Lisbon would disavow any relationship as he would have gone against everything she believed in. He would break her heart. And for that reason he couldn't allow their friendship to be more than it was.

"If you say so," came the unconvinced voice, Michael's eyes swept the room and saw the windows, "It's getting late, you wanna crash here?"

"No," Jane answered genially, "but thank you for the offer. I'll just be on my way."

"You're sure? Not to say you're a small guy, but I'm bigger 'an you and I'm feeling slightly buzzed. Don't have anything in my stomach," the firefighter said with concern drawing his eyebrows together.

"No worries, trust me, I can hold my beer," the mentalist answered cheerfully. _'Because I only had one,'_ Jane thought to himself. A little detail he didn't need to reveal. If Michael remembered later, he'd notice the number of empty bottles himself.

"Thanks for driving me and getting me into Tessa's house," Michael called after him and Jane made his way to the front door. Jane gave a backward glance and threw off an irreverent salute that made the younger man shake his head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes:** As usual thanks to Yana/Yaba for being my beta for this story.

Thanks go out to my readers and reviewers (especially reviewers!): Madam Spooky, Famous4it, MOSI3 (glad to hear the last chapter caused an emotional response, I was trying to tell the story without having to be graphic with it. Abuse is a difficult subject.), Chiisana Minako (*accepts champagne, grimaces, adds orange juice* Ah, mimosa, how I missed you! Lisbon in the hospital definitely gives Jane plenty of time to think.), lisbon69 (or will there be no more than friendship between Jane and Lisbon? Read on and you may find your answer… :-D), Princess Popsicle, Nancy, Tessa27 (I'm glad you're enjoying the story and think it's believable. We'll see if I can keep it that way.), Firebreather23 (I love fluff between them, you'll just have to read on for now.), silkysue10, starbuckfaerie21 (I made up details, of course, but we do know that Lisbon's mother was killed by a drunk driver when she was around 12 years old. Her father experienced alcohol induced blackouts during which he'd abuse his children and forget he had abused them, a severe example as having beaten one of Lisbon's brother so badly he had to be hospitalized. We know her father is dead, though I don't think there was any mention of how he died.), and The Jaxter (thank you for your enthusiasm and overflowing comments!).

**Chapter 5**

Jane was back at the hospital and managed to make it into Lisbon's room before, or after depending on your perspective, visiting hours (again). He had initially gone back to the CBI building to try and have a fitful sleep (he didn't lie to himself as he knew it really couldn't get better than that under even the best conditions). However, after finding that his couch really didn't hold any allure for him, he left for the hospital.

He had quietly drawn up a chair next to Lisbon as he had done her first two nights in the ICU and sat, holding her hand. He noticed her hair didn't look as greasy anymore, signs that it had been washed relatively recently was evident. Though it still lay limp, her natural wave held at bay by not receiving a thorough wash, or maybe it was only reflecting the state of her body?

Jane's curiosity drove him to touch Lisbon's hair, to smooth her growing bangs to the side. As he had no reason not to, he allowed his impulse to drive him. He allowed his fingers to lightly trace along her brow and past her cheek before pulling back. He had taken full advantage of feeling her face when he had been temporarily blind. It had been a beautiful opportunity.

Had he been observing himself (or another) through instances like these, he may have realized he had deeper feelings for his boss (by technicality!). He would have realized that he had all the traits of a man who wanted more in their relationship, just as he had noticed in Bosco's interactions with Teresa. Yet, as he was not observing himself, all this was a moot point.

"Lisbon," he whispered, his gray-green eyes studying her unmoving face, "I miss annoying you while you're conscious enough to notice."

He wasn't sure if she was responding to his voice, but her eye lids seemed to twitch. His heart fluttered along with her eyes as he held his breath, watching intently. Finally, her eyes opened. He felt it was yet another miracle (even if he did not believe in miracles). She blinked. Jane stood over her so that his face was in line with her eyes.

"Hi there Lisbon. I guess you missed being annoyed by me," he told her softly, a warm smile gracing his face. He felt her fingers twitch in his hand and gently gripped them. She seemed to stare through him for a moment, and then her eyes focused on him briefly, a somewhat quizzical look entering them before her eyes closed again.

"Going back to sleep already?" he murmured, continuing his one-sided conversation with her. He became excited when he felt her fingers squeeze his lightly before going lax again. He sat back in his chair after a few minutes, waiting to see if she'd open her eyes again. He was slightly disappointed, but that was pushed aside as he felt an immense happiness fill him. He had a silly grin on his face.

His euphoria settled down as he decided he should notify a nurse of what just occurred. He knew they were keeping track of these things on the chart at the foot of the bed. He hesitated, not wanting to be possibly kicked out, but risked it.

Jane had pressed the call button by Lisbon's bed, telling the answering person that Teresa had opened her eyes again, even squeezed his fingers. The nurse on call was one he vaguely recalled seeing his first night in the ICU. She asked him exactly what led up to "Mrs. Lisbon's" actions (having been there that first night she was still under the belief he was Teresa's husband) and recorded the information onto the medical chart with her colorful pen. She followed up by doing tests to check for reactions. They discovered that when the nurse pressed on Lisbon's fingernail, the agent's hand tried to flinch away and her eyelids twitched, though they didn't open.

"This is very good, Mr. Lisbon," the nurse said in reserved excitement. Jane privately smiled at what she called him. "She has improved in the GCS for the moment, though the result is skewed as we can't test her vocals since we still have her entubated. But we haven't had any relapses in lung collapse."

"When do you think the tube can be removed? Can she breathe on her own?" he asked, standing by the foot of the bed as the nurse had taken up residence in his usual spot.

"She's healing nicely, but we'll need to keep it in for a few more days and see how it goes. We still have a chest tube in her to make sure all the trapped air in her chest cavity gets out. Though the chest tube can remain after her endotracheal tube is removed, we want to make sure her body is ready for it. We'll just have to wait and see, but it's likely to be at least a week," the pale nurse replied, giving him an apologetic smile. Seeing that he had no other questions, she left the room.

Jane decided to go to work today. The previous day was when the team was supposed to be back at work, but he had stayed at the hospital. Though he didn't call in to the office he was very certain that Cho had told Van Pelt that their consultant was taking a personal day. She likely deduced that Jane hadn't actually called to put in the request himself, but they'd cover for him because he was part of their team. Well, that and especially because he was staying in the hospital at Lisbon's side.

The consultant arrived to the bullpen welcomed by two surprised faces. His coworkers had assumed they wouldn't be seeing him outside of the hospital for several more days. Though Cho was reading, he acknowledged Jane with a brief glance up at him.

"Looks like I'm going to have to take back the personal day request," he heard Van Pelt mutter to herself as she started tapping on her computer keyboard.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cho with his nose back in his book, but his hand was held out to Rigsby. The very tall man rolled his eyes and grumbled, "I bet you had insider info, not fair," as he pulled out his wallet, counted some bills, and slapped it onto Cho's waiting hand. The shorter man continued reading his book as he pocketed the cash. He quietly answered, "You never said I couldn't."

Van Pelt gave the two men a bemused expression before turning her attention back to Jane.

"Welcome back. How's the boss doing?" she asked, slightly concerned, but confident that he wouldn't have left the hospital had Lisbon's condition gotten worse.

Jane sat on his leather couch, "She's getting better. The tube down her throat should be out in less than a week. She woke up again today," he said nonchalantly as he brought his legs up and laid out in his customary position. _'Hello Elvis.'_

All three agents had their eyes on him, even Cho had put down his book in favor of giving their team consultant his undivided attention. Jane smiled internally.

"When did this happen?" the red-haired agent asked, having left her desk to come lean against Jane's unused one.

Jane turned his head away from staring at the ceiling and Elvis to look at the young agent, "Early this morning when I went in for a visit."

Rigsby had a raised eyebrow and Van Pelt had a "please continue" look on her face that was quickly turning into annoyance. Jane flashed a quick grin at them and decided not to tease them anymore.

"I was talking to her. We all know how irresistible my voice is, she decided to wake up to hear more."

"Yah, so irresistible that she opened her eyes the first time when I was talking to her," Cho jibed, a tiny smirk on his face as he leaned back in his chair.

Jane's mouth pulled down in a momentary frown, but quickly pulled it back into a neutral expression as Rigsby gave a chuckle and Van Pelt smiled.

"Well, anyway, things are looking up for our fearless leader and she should be waking up more frequently for longer periods of time. Of course she won't actually be able to talk to us until they remove the ventilator," Jane continued.

"I'm happy to hear our boss is getting better," Van Pelt said as she got up and returned to her desk. Just as she sat down Minelli walked up and called out, "Cho, in my office."

"Looks like we got a case," Rigsby said, taking a bite out of an apple. Minelli had used his official-business voice, and not the tone used when someone (Jane) was in trouble.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes: **I had the privilege of getting to know an elderly woman some years ago. She grew up during the Great Depression. Her mother passed away while she was young and though her father remarried, she apparently raised her younger siblings. She did not finish her education beyond the 5th grade in elementary school so that she could stay home to help work at the family's farm and raise her brothers and sisters. For this her siblings called her "Mommy Vi" (her name is Violet). What does this have to do with anything? Perhaps not much, though I do find a certain parallel between her life and that of Lisbon's when it came to their childhoods (it wasn't intentional). What was intentional, however, is Kev's nickname for Lisbon as it was inspired by Violet.

Thanks to Yana/Yaba and the reviewers: Chiisana Minako (does the chocolate include filling? I'm glad I'm not being too predictable…), Ebony10 (and I shall hopefully continue to enable your addiction), starbuckfaerie21 (I started seeing the show from season 2 since I was living in Japan the previous year so I got season 1 for X-mas, awesome!), Famous4it, mtm, Nancy, and Firebreather23 (you're my 50th reviewer!).

**Chapter 6**

The case took three days to crack. A man in a wheel chair was found dead in an alley, his service dog loyally at his side even as it bled from bullet wounds. As the team interviewed suspects, witnesses, and followed possible leads, they found that there wasn't much to like about the victim. They could only pity the wounded animal that had apparently fought to protect him.

The victim had formerly been a loan shark and had ended up in his chair when one of his collections went awry. One of his former customers had recognized the shady dealer (who had become a scam artist preying on the elderly and selling false insurance policies after being confined to a wheelchair) and decided to get some payback. The murder suspect had a gambling problem and a limp (courtesy of the service dog). They had him in custody and now it was up to a jury to convict him.

The dog had been treated and was on her way to recovery, currently being kept as evidence. She had been a very friendly Golden Retriever that Jane had almost considered adopting for Lisbon. He had already started defending himself mentally from the imagined onslaught that would result after Lisbon's initial surprised smile wore off. She would begin to explain why she couldn't keep the dog because of her busy lifestyle as he would explain the many virtues of having a dog… God, he missed having arguments with that woman.

Each evening, during the case, Jane went to visit Lisbon in the hospital, running into Michael on the second evening. Michael stuck to visiting Teresa during actual visiting hours now that he knew she was getting better. The oldest brother had finally gotten hold of the younger two brothers, back from the band tour, and told Jane they would be coming in the next couple days.

During Jane's visits, he managed to see Lisbon respond to his presence once more, which happened during his third evening on the case. According to Michael and the nurses, Teresa had opened her eyes more frequently, two or three times a day now. She opened her eyes in reaction to being spoken to (or a loud noise such as when someone dropped a bed pan in the hall). One time, she had been able to respond to a simple command, squeezing the doctor's hand.

So on that third evening, after closing the case and having enjoyed the "closed case Chinese" (Van Pelt had won the Rock-Paper-Scissors competition with Rigsby) Jane was in the ICU, talking to Lisbon. He had taken her hand and started talking softly, her eyes opening after a moment.

"So the staff told me they'd be taking that tube out of your mouth tomorrow and switching you over to a mask instead. Guess you'll be able to start voluntarily not talking to me when I annoy you."

Her eyes were still generally glazed over from the long lengths of unconsciousness she'd been experiencing. However, she had finally started to recognize his voice and appeared to be trying to focus her eyes on him.

Patrick smiled encouragingly at her as he sat on the edge of the bed, facing her, holding her hand between his on his lap. He continued speaking as she finally seemed to focus on his face in the dim light set for night, "Oh, and did you know your other brothers should be coming in the next couple of days?"

Because he had been trained to, he noticed the subtle movement of her eyebrows. He heard a whoosh that was off-cycle of the normal breathing pattern set by the ventilator attached to Lisbon. He smiled almost deviously as he interpreted these little actions that a normal person may have missed, "I take it you're not too fond of having all three of your brothers crowding your place? Don't worry, Michael is keeping your apartment nice and safe, I gave him the key after the first day he was here. You should be happy your younger siblings adore you so."

Her eyes started closing again.

"Before I let you go back to your beauty sleep, can you squeeze my hand to say 'goodnight Patrick'?" Jane wheedled jokingly. Her eyes opened then closed again. He wondered if that was supposed to be a glare at him, but as he began to move from the bed, he felt her squeeze his hand. His face softened. He rearranged her hand by her side and whispered into her ear, "Goodnight Teresa."

The next day the younger brothers had indeed arrived. Patrick had almost immediately known who the tall men were near the ICU as soon as he saw them. Both had dark hair like their older siblings and light colored eyes. The one who looked to be just a couple inches taller than himself had to be John, he looked very sturdy, a result from working construction. The other was relatively reedy looking, hair long and lank, and clothing that seemed to scream "BOARDER!" This was Kevin.

John noticed Jane's approach, watching him with a blank expression. Kevin appeared oblivious to anyone around him as he stared through the ICU window into his sister's room. Jane assumed Michael was in there currently. As he neared, Michael stepped out of the room and spotted him. He gave a smile and introduced him to his brothers, "Hey! Kev, John-John, this is Patrick Jane, Tessa's coworker, the one I was telling you about."

John gave a tight smile and extended a large calloused hand which Patrick took, a brief, firm shake.

Although Kev also extended a hand for common courtesy, he seemed to bristle; an aggressive look in his clear blue eyes. Jane kept his disarming smile as he readied himself for what he was sure was going to be a very uncomfortable grip on his hand. He was already mentally flexing his hand. Sure enough, Kevin Lisbon fulfilled Patrick Jane's expectations and had a bruising grip of a handshake, from which Jane tried not to wince.

The power play didn't go unnoticed by Kevin's older brothers though.

"Kev! Be nice!" Michael curtly ordered with a sharp look, hovering over the youngest brother's shoulder. Kev's lips firmed into a straight line, but then saw the stern look in John's eyes, who stayed leaning against the wall.

"Sorry, didn't mean to hurt you," the young man said sullenly.

"Oh I'm sure you meant to," Jane replied honestly, smile never leaving his face. The brothers looked a bit startled, "but it'll be fine, your sister will likely say that I deserved it."

With that calculated sentence, he could see he had disarmed Kevin to an extent. He no longer looked like a wild dog with his hackles raised and even had a small smirk.

"Kev, why don't you go and see Tessa next?" Michael suggested, relaxing.

" 'kay Mikey," Kevin said as he pushed past them and into the room. Patrick observed that as soon as Kev was in the room, he had shed his "tough guy" persona and now very much looked like the little boy that held a skateboard in the picture that sat on Lisbon's desk at home.

"Sorry about him, he's really protective of Tessa, he acts like a testosterone driven jerk sometimes. Tessa was practically his mother," Michael explained apologetically. He added, "You handled that very well."

"No apologies needed, it was bound to happen with at least one of you, if not all. You wouldn't be Lisbon's brothers if you didn't get annoyed with me as soon as we met."

"We're really appreciative that you've been lookin' out for her," John finally spoke up.

"Oh you have gotten that all wrong," Jane waved a hand as he corrected him, an almost earnest expression on his face, "She looks out for me, that's how she got shot, or didn't dear Michael tell you?"

"He told us, which is another reason Kev probably did that," John replied in his deeper voice, "She's always been doin' that, protecting other people even when she needs to be protected herself."

In Lisbon's room, Kevin had seated himself next to Teresa. He studied her for a while, wondering if she needed to sleep some more.

He made up his mind to talk to her, "Hey Momma Tess," he said so that only she'd be able to hear the embarrassing nickname. It was only embarrassing for him; she had taken it well in stride when he was little. He had taken to calling her "Momma" at times after their mother's death. It had been accidental, just as some children accidentally called their female teachers "Mom". Grief had stricken her the first time he had called her that, but she accepted it as she really had become his and the other brothers' surrogate mother and acting parent. He had continued calling her "Momma Tess" for three years after their mother's death until he realized that other kids didn't call their sisters "Momma". He would only occasionally use the pet name afterwards during vulnerable or private moments with his sister, or a slip of the tongue.

His sister's eyes opened, her head was tilted in his direction from when Michael was visiting her. He could see a smile grow on her lips, her nose and mouth now covered in a clear mask, her endotracheal tubing having been removed that morning. He noticed her hand nearest him twitch, so he took it as an indication to hold it.

Teresa's eyes were closing, but Kevin started talking, "I met your boyfriend."

Her eyes snapped open and just barely murmured a protest through her still sore throat.

Her brother continued, "You okay? Do you want some water?"

Misinterpreting her reaction, he continued speaking as he poured some water from a plastic pitcher into a cup with a bent straw, "Why didn't you tell us about him? I only saw him a minute before I came in here. I guess he's okay," he pulled her mask down to hang at her neck and held the straw up to her lips, which she numbly took, "Mikey said how Patrick stayed all the time with you those first couple days before he got here."

Teresa's eyes were starting to close again, her youngest brother's voice becoming far away and distorted as her attention wavered along with her consciousness.

"…asleep again…"

The next time Teresa woke was to the hot ache of her ribs. She knew she had been shot, but was rarely able to think much about it with the short bouts of awareness that were usually monopolized by a visitor. Normally it was a constant dull ache; certainly they had her drugged up. But after the doctor had deemed it safe for her to be switched to a face mask with her improving condition, they had also given her control of dosing herself. This control came in the form of a button that reminded her of a game show buzzer.

Her bleary eyes opened and her hand felt around her bedside, bumping into someone.

"I'm up," came the startled announcement.

"Jane?" Lisbon croaked. She wanted to cough, the air catching her dry throat, but knowing if she did it would hurt her ribs. Holding it in was taxing as well and she ended up coughing anyway. Jane rubbed his eyes, his cheek imprinted with red lines, and he leaned in his seat to reach for the cup with straw and water.

Spasms ran through Lisbon's body as she tore off her mask and gratefully accepted the cup in one hand. She started sipping on the proffered water, her ribs on fire. She felt a warm hand press something that felt cool in her free hand and looked down. It was the button for the pain killers. She immediately pressed it with her thumb and waited for it to take effect.

Her eyes had closed, concentrating on the soothing water, and now waiting for her pain to fade. Every breath brought her pain, so she tried to breathe shallowly. Broken ribs were a bitch.

She felt the cup being pulled out of her hand and opened her eyes again to see Jane smiling down at her with worn green eyes, looking slate grey in the shadows.

"What?" she asked cautiously, having swallowed first to test her throat. Under the dim lights provided by a shaded strip on the wall for night time, he could see her eyes clearly. They were a clear green as he hadn't seen for a while now, especially in contrast to the white bed linens, dark hair, and now her slightly reddened face from coughing.

"I'd bet my name is the first word you've said since waking up from your coma," he was almost smirking now, his eyes dancing. He adored the tired incredulous look her face managed and was able to tell the meds were starting to take effect. Her face no longer looked as pinched as it had when she woke up.

"Hey. Where's- my- wedding ring?" Lisbon asked, concerned as she looked at her hands.

Jane's smile fell as various medical scenarios ran through his head, amnesia? Hallucinations?

"What do you mean?" he asked neutrally, studying her face.

She looked up at him with worried eyes, "My wedding ring," she held up her left hand, "it's missing."

The corners of her eyes crinkled. Game over.

"Oh, you think that's funny?" Jane smiled pointing at her.

Lisbon smiled, leaning back into her pillow, she spoke carefully, pausing between words, "Hey, I had you going. Been wanting- to pay you back- since you called me 'Rigsby'."

He could tell she was fading again, worn out already; the pain meds were also doing their job. He reached over to her face and carefully placed her mask over her nose and mouth. Lisbon's dull green eyes were half open, watching him. He sat back in his chair, his hands resting on the edge of her bed. She pushed her hand over to rest over his fingers and squeezed them gently, whispering, "Goodnight Patrick."

"Goodnight Teresa."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes:** As always, thank you Yana!

I have gotten comments saying how believable my story is and thankful it appears so (or at least within the realm of The Mentalist). With this chapter perhaps I might stretch reality a bit with Abby… my defense is, hey it's a Mentalist fanfic. So bear with me. I don't think it's too out there, but maybe a little bit. You'll likely figure out what I mean after finishing this chapter. As with most of the medical stuff, I did look up information online to keep things close to real as I can without having actually experienced it firsthand.

Thank you reviewers! MOSI3, Famous4it, mtm, Tessa27 (the highlight of ff net? A lovely sentiment, but likely to give me a big head ), Nancy (I love that you loved the last chapter), Chiisana Minako (Sorry, I didn't explore the Lisbon family relationship much. So many fillings to choose from… OMG! Crunchy peanut butter filling with nugat and butter toffee bits would be mouthwatering…), Firebreather23 (You can keep on demanding, but you get what you get. Glad you like it enough to demand more.), and starbuckfaerie21.

Please enjoy and review!

**Chapter 7**

Due to Lisbon being lucid more often, lengthening time in being conscience, and no real setbacks in her recovery she was removed from the intensive care unit. It took only five days after her two younger brothers came. Unfortunately it was a shared room (insurance covered only so much).

The three brothers crowded around her for their last visit. Now that she was really on her way to recovery they didn't have much excuse to stick around. They had jobs and lives to get back to.

The Lisbon brothers had spent the day waiting for their sister to wake up and talked with her when she finally did, leaving her when she fell asleep for a quick tour of the city with Van Pelt, and back again in the late afternoon.

"Next time we see each other better be at Christmas. You skipped out last time," Kev told his sister.

"Yah," Mikey chimed in, "I better not hear you're in the hospital again just to get us all together. You come to us next time."

"Okay, okay!" Tessa waved a hand at her towering brothers, "I promise to come back east for Christmas this year, though I think the promise will depend on how trashed you left my place."

"Hey! I resent that!" Kev gave her false wounded look.

"Don't worry, I fixed everything these two knuckleheads broke. Looks good as new," John quickly followed up, causing Kev to glare at him and the others to laugh, partly in surprise as the team had noticed in their short time together that the middle brother rarely spoke.

Each brother treated their sister as one would a delicate glass figurine, warned of her broken ribs. Each took a turn kissing her cheek and saying their goodbyes. Lisbon thanked Cho for his offer of driving her brothers to the airport. The team had come in to see her having been notified that she would be moved that day from ICU and that her brothers were leaving. Minelli let them off early from the office, having had a slow day as well, and the team got to be acquainted with the brothers the last hour.

They all said their goodbyes again and Cho led them to the night darkened parking lot. At one point Rigsby had commented on the height difference between their boss and her brothers, at which Van Pelt swiftly elbowed him, hoping no one heard. However John, Cho, and Jane had all noticed and privately smiled at each other.

With the other Lisbons gone the room became quiet. Lisbon looked over at Van Pelt, "Thanks again for taking the boys out around town today, they've never been here before."

"No problem Boss, I was glad to do it," the junior agent replied warmly.

Rigsby noticed the clock on the wall and saw how late in the evening it was, he looked over at the small woman wearing white and blue patient's gown on the bed and spoke up, "Uh, well, looks like we gotta go," he had never been a fan of hospitals, "We'll come again some time."

Lisbon's eyes were drooping closed as she said her goodbye to the young agents. She hadn't noticed Jane leaning quietly against the wall watching them. Satisfied that she had fallen asleep he left the room.

In less than a week, after she had been transferred out of the ICU, Lisbon had regained a more normal sleeping pattern and was awake during the day time. She was still being medicated to dull the pain of her mending ribs, the chest tube having been removed several days ago, but was able to walk to the bathroom by herself. She did not ever want to be attached to a catheter ever again. It was rather embarrassing to think that everyone could virtually see her urinating constantly. That thought hadn't occurred to her until Van Pelt had commented on the bathroom situation. Rigsby had thought it funny (though he didn't laugh in front of his boss) until Jane mentioned the length of catheter having to be used for a man. The once again tallest man had squirmed uncomfortably at the thought.

Teresa Lisbon was bored out of her mind! There was a TV in the shared room, but Lisbon quickly grew tired of daytime television. She hadn't really seen daytime TV other than when she had been sick, and even then she usually went to work anyway. There was nothing good on during the day. And besides, she'd rather be out of the hospital and back in the office so at least she'd have something to do, even if it was only writing reports.

Cho had been thoughtful enough to bring her a book, but she had almost begged him for a file to work on. He simply gave her his trademark deadpan face and answered, "No can do Boss, doctor's orders."

For nothing else to do Lisbon finally started carefully walking around the hospital, rolling the IV drip tree along. A worried nurse had found her sitting in a lounge catching her breath and admonished her for overexerting herself. Lisbon had waved it off, but the nurse only came back with a wheelchair and took her back to her room.

It was a day after that incident when Jane came to visit her during his lunch break instead of after office hours. Lisbon had tried reading the book Cho had brought her, but wasn't getting anywhere as her legs itched to move. The nurses had been watching her like hawks. In her current state she sure wasn't up for any marathons, but just being able to walk around would be nice.

She noticed a sudden movement, Jane's curly head poking into the room.

"Ah, you're awake, perfect," he said with a secretive smile.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?" Lisbon asked almost sternly, though she was thankful for his interruption to her boring day.

"I brought you a friend," he simply said, stepping into the room. Lisbon watched him curiously, wondering who it was. Then she saw the Golden Retriever follow him in.

"You can't bring a dog in here!" Lisbon hissed at him, wondering how he had managed this.

"Ah, but she's a licensed service dog. Her name's Abby," he corrected, the familiar know-it-all smile on his face.

He brought the dog to the CBI senior agent and waved the dog to the bed. Abby quietly limped up with a slowly wagging tail to Lisbon's bedside and stuck her head over the edge, sniffing her hand. Lisbon involuntarily smiled as she started stroking the gentle creature's soft head.

"What happened to her?" she asked softly, referring to the dog's limp.

"Oh, she was shot protecting her owner, but don't worry. According to the vet the limp should become very minimal."

"Shot?" Lisbon looked up, startled. Her face was serious now, though she continued stroking the dog's fur. Abby sat by the bed, seemingly blissful as her eyes closed and tail continued gently swishing along the tile floor. "What happened?"

Jane recounted the edited version of the team's first case without Lisbon.

"… and Abby was finally released from being evidence since they matched her teeth with the marks found on the perp's arm and leg," Jane finished.

"So why do you have her here, now?" Lisbon asked, once again focused on the quiet dog who was all but asleep against the hospital bed.

"I heard about your little incident yesterday and figured having a dog around would give you something to do during your long days," Jane answered matter of factly.

Lisbon stared at him, trying to understand what he said, "For just today right?"

"No, while you're still in the hospital."

"But dogs need walks and I can't do that right now," she calmly pointed out.

"You don't need to worry about that, Abby is still healing so it's minimal movement for her as well. Besides, if she needs a walk I can walk her when I come by in the evenings," Jane supplied, hands in his pockets, smiling.

"But what about going to the bathroom?"

"Don't worry, she's potty trained," Jane rebutted, a sparkle in his eye.

"Well, I would hope a service dog is house broken, but this is a hospital, they don't make it a practice of having newspaper on the floor for a dog to do their business on," Lisbon's voice was starting to rise in decibels as her frustration rose.

"Again, she's potty trained," Jane insisted calmly, that sparkle in his eye was annoying the hell out of his supervising agent.

"And again hospitals don't just let-"

"Abby, potty," Jane interrupted. The dog's eyes opened and she removed her head from under the woman's hand. She walked around the room and found the shared bathroom, grasping the door handle and pulling down with her mouth, opening the door. They watched as the dog clambered up onto the toilet seat and began to do her business. Lisbon's mouth dropped open as she stared in awe. Once finished the dog had leaped off and pawed the toilet handle down, flushing the toilet.

"See, potty trained," Jane smiled at her as Abby padded back to the bedside. Lisbon remained speechless until the dog nosed her hand again.

"Good dog," she murmured, rubbing the dog's ears as the retriever sighed happily, eyes once again closing blissfully.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes:** So, before I wrote the last chapter I did some research in form of Wikipedia, some service animal organization sites, and watched videos on youtube to research service dogs. There are in fact service who have been trained to use a human toilet on command. Some people mentioned knowing cats that have been potty trained, I've heard of and seen videos of that as well which gave me the idea to find out if dogs could be trained similarly. They can. Crazy stuff.

Thanks to Yana/Yaba, Firebreather23 (don't worry, Abby is more of an "Awww" factor :-P), Chiisana Minako, Ebony10, lisbon69, Famous4it, MK, finaldragon13, and mtm.

Please enjoy and review (reviews really make me happy and motivate me).

**Chapter 8**

Lisbon didn't know what Jane had done to allow her to have a dog in her hospital room. It had to be against some regulation even if Abby was a service dog, but Lisbon didn't care to find out. Abby had achieved Jane's goal for Lisbon to relax, even if it was staying in her bed all day brushing and stroking the dog. True to his word after work, Jane came to visit and took Abby out for walks.

The service dog was relatively small for her breed and so Lisbon allowed the dog to squeeze onto the foot of her narrow hospital bed, sometimes scooting over so that the dog could lie beside her, making it easier for the hospitalized agent to pet the dog without bending her body.

By the third day, Abby had to have been the best groomed dog. Lisbon had spent hours brushing her long, golden coat. No stray dog hairs fell from the dog and her coat shined. Thank goodness her bed sheets had been changed as the hairs that weren't captured in the dog brush had stuck to the sheets, her gown, and possibly her hair.

Teresa was satisfied with her handy work, her hands and arms were aching with their constant movement and she was yet again tired of lying in bed all day, even with a friendly companion.

"You know, you shouldn't get used to this," she told Abby, whose eyes were half-lidded as Lisbon stroked her, "I doubt your new owner will have time to spoil you the whole day, every day."

Teresa looked around, the curtain was drawn around her roommate's bed, probably sleeping, she usually was since she was kept heavily sedated throughout her treatments. The nurses had already come by ten minutes ago. She looked down at Abby who had opened her eyes and was staring up at her hopefully, starting to pant. A leash was left coiled on her bedside table with a pitcher of water. Smiling down at the dog she made her decision.

"Hey Abby, I think you want to go for a walk."

***

Lisbon sat stiffly in a cushioned chair. Breathing hurt her healing ribs too, but she couldn't stand just sitting in her bed. She had made slow progress with Abby at her side, carefully walking so as not to jostle herself and feeling more confident with every step. She was certain that she was physically capable of walking unassisted since there was nothing wrong with her legs. It had been a few days since she tried walking out of her room.

She had clenched her teeth through the pain despite self-medicating against it. She needed to get fit and out of this hospital as soon as possible so she could get back to the job. The limping Abby had dutifully kept in step with her, even though the dog was capable of a quicker pace, and kept looking up at her Lisbon and their surroundings. They had found the lounge after a crawling ten minute walk (a normal walking pace would have reached the place in less than 4 minutes) and she had taken a seat slowly, keeping her upper body straight. Sweat had gathered on her forehead and upper lip from her exertions.

"Tsk tsk Lisbon," came the very familiar voice, startling the tired woman who had been concentrating on breathing slowly. Jane took a seat beside her and patted Abby's head that had been resting on Lisbon's lap. "You are a terrible patient. You thought I wasn't a good one, but _I_ hadn't been shot with broken ribs and in a coma for several days."

Jane was grinning at her, which dimmed as he noticed the sweat on her face, some of her dark hair clinging to her skin. He shook his head, "You are one stubborn woman. Want help back to your room?"

She shook her head, still concentrating on her breathing.

"Tell you what Lisbon, I'm going to help you escape," Jane whispered conspiratorially. She looked at him sharply and could almost imagine him rubbing his hands together. No, wait, he was actually doing it.

Jane happily noticed the deepening line near the corner of her mouth as her lips twitched into a half smile, he pushed on, "We're near the parking lot and you could be home tonight, we both know you want to. The hospital can't really stop you."

"I shouldn't…" Lisbon whispered to minimize abdominal movement.

"Ah, but you want to," Jane almost tapped Lisbon on the nose, "Wait right here, I'll be back in a moment."

Jane walked off. Lisbon was sure he was just teasing her, but knowing him it had just becoming reality. It was only a couple of minutes before he reappeared in the hall by the lounge pushing a wheelchair.

"Hop on, we'll be out of here in no time," Jane said excitedly. He had brought the chair across from her and slowly took her by the elbows. Lisbon didn't resist since it could cause her more pain, or so she told herself.

She put up a token effort though, "Jane, we shouldn't be doing this. I need to stay in the hospital."

Even to her own ears, she didn't sound convincing.

"Oh pish posh, you don't really believe that, in fact I know you don't believe that. Otherwise you would have stayed in bed like you were supposed to, and even then you could just stay at home in your own bed," Jane reasoned, he was carefully trying to lower her into the wheelchair.

"No, no. Just let me brace my arms," Lisbon said, not exactly fighting him as she felt his hands against her bare lower arms. She had gasped a bit at his upward pull out of the lounge seat, she swore every movement of even her pinky toe could be felt through her ribs now.

Instead of letting go Jane gently pulled Lisbon into his body, her nose against his vested chest, firm against her face, and warm with a calming smell of washed skin permeating the starched shirt. His strong arms had braced themselves around her upper and lower back and he was already lowering her into the wheelchair when she mentally shook herself of embarrassing thoughts of her coworker.

Jane had slowly released her from his grasp, having enjoyed her warm body against his, though it had honestly been completely professional in intention. He didn't have much physical contact with people (other than the unfortunate and unwanted contact of a fist to his nose, that kind of contact he'd rather not have…) so it felt like remembering something nice, like freshly baked cookies at home on a lazy weekend. He noticed the slightly flushed and guilty look on Teresa's face that she was trying to hide. He decided to let this opportunity pass. There are plenty of other times he'd be able to mercilessly tease and annoy her.

Abby sat waiting and watching them.

Jane was behind the chair now and bent down to whisper into Lisbon's ear, "She's waiting for instructions, tell her to heel."

"Uh, heel," Lisbon said hesitantly, watching Abby. The dog obediently came to the left side of the wheel chair and stood. Jane started pushing the chair and Abby kept pace.

She continued watching the dog as she was rolled through the halls, a frown on her face.

"Jane, I can't keep this dog. Where does she go? Somebody probably needs her," she said, turning her head up to look at Jane.

"You can worry about that when you're both better- and here we are at my car."

Jane set the wheelchair breaks on, unlocked his tiny car, Lisbon was already cringing thinking of the body contortions that would be involved to get seated into that deathtrap.

Lisbon was starting to feel very uneasy about this so called "escape". In a momentary lapse in judgment she had let herself be swayed by Jane. She needed to be back in her hospital room before an APB was put out on her. That would not go over well with the local authorities or with the CBI. Lisbon's straight-laced by-the-book personality was back in full force.

"Jane, we can't do this. I need to get back to the room before the hospital has security searching for me," she told him as he finished unlocking and opening the passenger side door. Jane looked up at her, she had that not-budging look on her face he was quite familiar with. Though most times he managed to get his way.

"I'm impressed you let me bring you this far," the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement, "but not to worry. I already checked you out."

"WHAT?! How?" Lisbon grimaced with her outburst. She was astonished, her green eyes shown brightly in the parking garage light, surprise was quickly turning into anger though. Typical Lisbon. Jane was quite happy. He had missed this while she had been in a coma and recovering.

"Would you believe they were going to discharge you today?" he asked her, Lisbon was clearly not amused, her arms were crossed over her chest, too tired to say more, but her eyes were doing their best at glaring him down and to tell her what really happened.

Jane flashed one of his heartbreaking smiles that would have had other women swooning over him and in the palm of his hand, which of course didn't work on Lisbon who was still glaring at him with a set jaw.

"Well, since the nurses are under the impression that we're married it was a simple process really," he began, he could tell her jaw had been ready to drop, but she caught it. "And since I had access to your office I had your social and insurance numbers with me. I didn't think you could be bothered with having to fill out all those forms."

Were it not for her ribs he was sure she'd be all sorts of red in the face, yelling at him right now. As it was her jaw was clenching, the muscle jumping, and her face was reddening a bit without yelling. Yes, she is certainly… furious.

"Relax Lisbon, deep down you know you wanted this, or you wouldn't have let me get you into the wheelchair in the first place. Now, let's get you into the car," he said soothingly.

They were on I-80, headed toward her home, Lisbon still furious, when she wondered if it really had been that easy to have the hospital release her. Jane had to have charmed, cajoled, and hypnotized the staff. Probably didn't have to cajole, just smile and then they were under his influence. That's illegal! How many times does she have to cite rules and regulations to the infuriating man? She glanced over at him driving from the corner of her eye and saw him smiling. She quickly looked straight ahead, arms still crossed. Abby's head was poking between their seats from the back, panting.

The dog nosed her ear and started licking making the senior agent squirm away, "Abby, no."

She put a conciliatory hand on the dog's head. Her face softened, she couldn't stay completely mad while the dog was in the car with them. She pointedly ignored Jane's chuckle.

The sun was setting when they arrived in front of her apartment. He opened the car door for her and she considered refusing to acknowledge him but in all honesty she was glad she was out of the hospital. She just wished he had asked her first instead of believing he was taking her away. Not that she liked doing paperwork… oh, God. How many forms would she have to fill for this incident? It couldn't have been as easy as he led her to believe. Would the hospital really release her without talking to her personally? He had to have harassed them, or maybe somehow snuck the correct forms out and slipped them back in?

"Stop worrying, you'll get wrinkles," Jane said lightly as he bent down into her space. Lisbon shied away from his grasp and held out a hand to push against his chest.

"I can do this myself," she said between clenched teeth.

Jane held his hands up in surrender, "Fine by me if you really want to make this hard for yourself. But you shouldn't be angry at me, I know you-"

"Shut. Up. Jane," Lisbon hissed as she pulled herself up and out of the car. She noticed that Abby had situated herself in front of Lisbon's legs, standing on all fours.

Concentration broken for a moment, a question slipped from her lips as pure curiosity made her forget for a moment that she was still angry/frustrated with Jane, "What's she doing?"

"She was a service dog for a man in a wheelchair, remember? I believe she's bracing herself so you can hold onto her as you get up," Jane supplied.

"I'm still pissed off at you," she reminded him with narrowed eyes and stalked off, or she would have stalked off. It was more of a stiff and slow walk with Abby trailing after her, having not been given a command to specifically heel or pull. Her tail waved in the air as she followed her current master.

It took until Lisbon was at the door, staring at it and her hospital gown to realize she didn't have her keys, or anything else for that matter. She rested her head against the door, knowing she'd have to turn around and talk to Jane. Maybe she could go over to a neighbor's just so she wouldn't have to face him?

Jane amused himself watching Lisbon's body language, waiting for that exact moment when she would realize she didn't have her keys. And there goes the shoulder slump. She probably would have banged her head against her door had she known she was alone. He could see her weighing her options: go to a neighbor, or face antagonism by Jane? He knew though that she was very tired and so likely to ignore her pride finally in three, two, one…

"Jane," came the defeated voice. Lisbon was still leaning against her front door, back facing him, "do you have my keys?"

She heard the telltale jingle of her keys behind her then saw his hand followed by a white shirt cuff and charcoal suit sleeve pass her body and insert the key into her door. She lifted her head off the door as he unlocked and opened it.

"In, Abby," Lisbon commanded tiredly, pointing into her home. The dog padded between their legs, tail wagging, and into the dark apartment. Lisbon pulled her keys out of the door knob and stepped in. She sensed Jane following her and stopped, "Goodnight Jane."

"But-"

"Goodnight," Lisbon forcibly interrupted and shut the door in Jane's face. So she missed the slightly astonished look on his face that read, 'I think I miscalculated.'

Lisbon just wanted to go straight to bed, but she couldn't until she settled Abby in. Did she even have any food left after her brothers stayed here? She was almost afraid to turn on the lights, she might discover some unwanted surprises. Her brothers had grown to be pretty good men. Mikey had been in the army, now a firefighter, John-John had been in the Peace Corps and built schools in Honduras, and with both of them looking out for Kev… but they were still her brothers. As family they may have been lax in their neatness as guests in her home. She wouldn't know, she always visited them back east and hadn't had them at her own place before.

She guardedly flipped on the lights. The first thing she noticed was a piece of paper taped to one of the paintings above her desk. She walked over and took the paper off, then noticed the chipped paint around a jagged tear. She lifted the frame off the wall and looked at the back. Someone had tried to patch it up with masking tape. She put it back up on its nail and looked at the paper in her hand and read it:

Sorry. –Kev

She let out a small sigh, but smiled a bit. Lisbon spotted the likely tool of destruction. Her softball lay innocently in the worn leather mitt on her desk instead of on the shelves with her books and CDs. She looked around for any other damages. Did her eyes deceive her? The living room and kitchenette were spotless, in fact, she'd go as far as saying that it was cleaner than she had left it. Books and magazines on the coffee table were neatly stacked. No dirty laundry left in the basket. Not a single dirty spoon left in the sink. There were a couple of muffins wrapped in plastic wrap sitting on the counter. She checked her cupboards and saw everything was in its place, clean and not broken. She lifted a ceramic bowl out of a stack of bowls on a shelf and filled it with water from the kitchen sink. Lisbon set it down on the linoleum floor and Abby immediately noisily lapped the water up, the sound filling the room.

Her apartment felt slightly foreign, even as it was inviting, like when coming home from vacation.

Lisbon opened her fridge and was surprised that instead of being cleaned out of anything remotely resembling food (the day she was shot she had been planning to get take out since there wasn't much to eat at home) it was fully stocked with fresh foods, juice, and milk. There even appeared to be plastic containers with what she assumed were home cooked meals. Mikey maybe? The Lisbons weren't the best cooks. The only thing that Teresa herself was great at in the food preparation department was making cinnamon rolls. It was one of the few things she learned to make with her mother.

She pulled out one of the containers, looked through the cloudy plastic, then opened the lid. It was lasagna. No, not Mikey, this was either from some Italian restaurant or someone else had made it. Lasagna was too complicated and time consuming for Mikey to make, at least that was her impression from the last time she witnessed his cooking.

There were a couple more stacked containers of lasagna, one container full of chicken noodle soup, all of which had hidden a full, uneaten store bought chocolate cake. She would so enjoy eating that tomorrow.

She pulled open her freezer drawer out of curiosity and found that it had been stocked with microwaveable meals, ice cream, and a few more containers of possibly homemade meals. Had John-John become a chef while she wasn't paying attention? She imagined that he may have gotten around to cooking more after his divorce for the kids… but she wasn't seeing it, they were all more likely to order out for a pizza. That's what was missing from this place. After having had three men living in her apartment miraculously it didn't smell of old pizza, no empty pizza boxes stacked up on her coffee table. She closed the fridge and freezer doors and noticed an unopened bag of dog food sitting upright wedged between the kitchenette counter and the fridge.

Jane.

Her heart sank. Just great. He had been his typical self getting on her nerves, of which she had less to fray than normal with the stress and exhaustion from recovering, yet he had to have done all this. She had no idea how much the boys cleaned up after themselves, but at least the food in the fridge and the dog food had to be from Jane. She opened the fridge again and looked more closely at the chocolate cake package. Yup, it had today's date on it for when it was baked. And as infuriating as it was to find out Jane had looked at her private information, she knew he wouldn't use it maliciously, and had done it only to help expedite her release from the hospital. Lisbon rested her head against the cool, stainless steel surface of the refrigerator door and sighed yet again.

Maybe he already left, but there was a chance he was still waiting in front of her door, knowing that she would discover the food, would forgive him, and come back to let him inside. She hesitated, should she forgive him? Eventually she would, she usually did, or forced herself to if only to be able to continue working with him. She walked to the door and opened it and found him sitting on the steps. He turned and got up, giving her a knowing smile. Her face froze and she started closing the door again.

"Whoa! I'm sorry Lisbon. I apologize for not asking you if you wanted me to check you out of the hospital," Jane managed to look slightly contrite, barely though. She knew he didn't actually feel bad about it, but warmed up to him just enough to open the door since he was giving her some effort in trying to appear so.

She rolled her eyes at him and he knew he was forgiven. Jane swiftly walked into her apartment before she changed her mind and made himself at home. He opened the cupboard, pulled out a couple plates and set them on the small counter, opened the fridge and pulled out the lasagna.

She left him to his own devices as she walked to the flight of stairs. She needed to get out of the hospital gown.

Abby followed Lisbon partway into the living room, then back to the kitchen next to Jane, sitting and looking up expectantly. At first he thought she was going to beg for some lasagna. Then it clicked.

"Oh right, you must be hungry, let's get you some of your food," Jane smiled at the dog as he placed the lasagna in the microwave and set the timer.

Lisbon came back downstairs to the smell of heated lasagna and the sounds of clinking flat- and silverware. Stepping down the last step she saw Abby's head thrust in the dog bowl busily eating her dry dog food and Jane setting the small table by the door. He had removed his blazer and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

"Smells good."

Jane looked up from setting down two glasses of water down. Lisbon was wrapped in a light blue bathrobe, green plaid flannel pajama bottoms visible mid-calf down. He walked around the table and pulled the chair out for her, a hand smoothly sweeping in a practiced motion as indication she should sit.

In all truthfulness she would have rather gone to bed, but after seeing the effort he went through she couldn't refuse. She'd probably wake up later anyway from a rumbling stomach as she hadn't eaten much of her lunch. The dry hospital chicken hadn't looked appetizing.

Jane scooted the seat in after she sat and then seated himself. He raised his glass and arched his eyebrow, "To your health."

Teresa gave him a lopsided smile and touched her glass to his, then sipped her water. She tasted the lasagna and found it to be excellent. It wasn't just a cheese and sauce one either, it had spinach and some other vegetables in it.

"This is good stuff, where'd you get it?" Lisbon asked around a mouthful, glancing up at Jane, catching him not eating, but rather watching her thoughtfully. "What?"

"Nothing," he slightly shook his head, "and I made the lasagna."

Lisbon paused in eating, "Really?" sounding amazed.

"Is it so hard to believe I can cook?" Jane looked slightly offended.

"No, it's just that I've never seen you in a kitchen other than to make tea in that _special_ way of yours," Lisbon smirked at her emphasis on the word "special", "though come to think of it with how particular you are about your tea I suppose it wouldn't be too much of a stretch for you to be particular about food preparation. I'm surprised the lasagna isn't inside out, or all the noodles aren't on the bottom and everything else on top," she teased, grinning at him as she took another admiring bite of the aforementioned dish.

He leaned in and thrust a finger in her face, barely containing a smile, "And you, my dear Lisbon, are just jealous of my culinary prowess. I very much doubt you could make something half as good."

"You can doubt all you want, I've got nothing to prove," she replied easily, forgetting her exhaustion as she got into the banter, enjoying it.

"In fact I doubt you can cook anything beyond a simple stir fry, or things that only require boiling water or microwaving," he pushed challengingly with a smirk.

"Fine, I can't cook much, but what I can make I make well. And I bet you can't beat my cinnamon rolls," she responded, pointing at him with her fork after another bite.

"Ha, I say you're all talk Lisbon," he was enjoying her animated features as they play argued.

"And I say you will become a believer. I'll bake some sometime to prove it," Teresa said with finality, finishing her last bite.

"What happened to having 'nothing to prove'?" he quoted back, watching her raise both of her eyebrows.

"All I'm saying is that you've never experienced cinnamon rolls until you've had mine," she said airily.

"You're on," he responded, "and I'll take care of the dishes."

He saw a look of worry cross her face, wait, it was half false worry, as she said, "What are you buttering me up for? Did you do something enormously bad on a case that I'm going to have to do clean up on? This can't be good."

"Nothing like that, I assure you. Besides, if anything had happened, our friend Agent Cho would be responsible for me since you're out on medical leave," Jane answered, clearing the table.

"Oh, I am sooo relieved," came the sarcastic response.

Teresa heard the pills before she saw them. Jane wordlessly placed an orange prescription bottle in front of her with another glass of water then placed a modest slice of chocolate cake with a fork beside it.

At her questioning look he supplied her with an answer, "Those pills are the nighttime prescription the doctor filled out for you and the cake is your treat for taking them, though I do believe you'll take them without the cake. The cake just makes it more fun."

She swallowed the pills without a fuss, more pain relief, and happily took a bite of the cake. She closed her eyes and almost moaned.

Jane was watching her, elbow on the table, his chin resting in the palm on his hand.

"I think it's safe to say you missed real food and some of your indulgences during your hospital stay," he teased. Lisbon ignored him, concentrating on every bite of her cake, not even asking why he wasn't eating a slice too. It just meant more for her to enjoy later.

He watched her for another moment before getting up again and starting on the dishes. Lisbon watched him work methodically. She'd only ever seen him prepare tea, but there was something slightly sensual about watching a man doing the dishes, perhaps because it was so mundane and domestic. She ducked her head and continued eating the cake. Once unobserved, Jane privately smiled to himself.

Jane had finished washing and drying all the plates and cutlery when he noticed that Lisbon was fighting to stay awake. Though she had taken the pills on a full stomach she was still a petite woman and the meds were powerful. She was starting to sway in her seat.

"Lisbon? Are you okay?" he asked, approaching her.

"Hm?" her eyes were half closed. She hadn't liked taking the meds at the hospital since it made her feel light headed and sleepy. She could forget what was said around her and it uneasily reminded her of the blackouts she had suffered on the lorazepam that Dr. Carmen had slipped into her coffee. She had even suffered withdrawal symptoms. She took the prescription, however, because otherwise her ribs would keep her awake and unsettled, unable to do much of anything other than thinking of the pain and breathing shallowly.

"Jane," she said sleepily.

"It's okay, I got you," he slid his arm under hers as she groggily looked on, "Okay Lisbon, you're going to need to stand up so we can get you to bed. Lisbon?"

"Hm?" her eyes were closed now and Jane looked up at the ceiling, almost asking it what he should do.

Looking back down at Lisbon, he settled her arm around his neck and gently scooped her up into his arms. A position he would have never gotten Lisbon to agree to had she been conscious and not medicated. Her small frame was quite light in his arms. Her personality could often make people forget how diminutive she really was, it was almost surprising.

He awkwardly carried her, trying not to jostle her too much, now able to smell her hair as her head became tucked under his chin. It was a comforting scent that went well with the warm weight in his arms. He walked carefully up the stairs and to her open bedroom, setting her down on one side of the bed as he untucked the sheets and blanket. The brothers had at least washed the sheets before they left. He could only take credit for the kitchen and straightening up a few stray articles. They hadn't done a half bad job with the living room when he had come in after they had left.

He was pulling the covers over her in the dark bedroom when he heard Lisbon whisper, "Please stay."

Her eyes were still closed and he was certain the drugs were talking. He finished tucking her in and smoothed her hair away from her face, much as he had when she was in a coma. He chastely pressed his lips against her forehead and whispered, "Sweet dreams."

He made his way out of her room swiftly, closing the door quietly behind him. He let out a gust of air and scrubbed his hands over his face before continuing on to go down the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Notes:** Thank you for leaving reviews/comments! Chiisana Minako (Perhaps Jane is being too sweet… but then it may balance out with him ticking Lisbon off earlier. I haven't had chocolate covered strawberries in forever!), Famous4it ;-), starbuckfaerie21, Katharen Silver (Glad you loved the chapter, it's nice to have Jane thrown off balance once in a while. I wanted him to stay too…), finaldragon13, mtm, shopping-luva91 (Yay! A new reviewer, thank you!), Nancy (I miss having dogs…), yaba aka yana (You are so awesome! You beta, you comment, and then on top of that you come back to ff net and comment here as well!), MOSI3 (I'm happy you like the story. Yah… my last dog wasn't the brightest thing… but I guess her cuteness made up for it?), and Charmed225 (Thanks!).

As usual, enjoy reading and kindly leave a comment.

**Chapter 9**

Teresa awoke to light filtering through the window blinds. She carefully opened her eyes, squinting against the intrusive light and realized that she was not at the hospital, but in her own bedroom. Her ribs were aching again, more of a twinge that she could mostly ignore. She still felt groggy, but had to use the bathroom.

After washing her hands she decided to go downstairs, the smell of coffee having caught her attention. She no longer thought of going back to bed. Rounding the staircase, she saw Jane in her tiny kitchenette apparently preparing breakfast. Abby was happily eating her food beside him in the small space.

"Good morning Lisbon," he called out, smiling at her from over his shoulder. It looked like he was cutting up apples and oranges, placing them on plates with a muffin. "I wasn't expecting you to get out of bed. Well, I did think there would be a high probability that you would with coffee in the air. You can go back to bed though and I'll bring this up for you," he offered, gesturing to the muffin and fruit.

"No, I'm fine- did you just come in to check on me?" Lisbon asked, her eyebrows slightly pushing together in consternation, "Don't you have work?"

He set the plate down on the dining table in her spot from the previous night and glanced up at her, "It's Saturday."

"Oh."

She gratefully reached out for the steaming mug of coffee placed on the table and sighed in contentment at the freshly brewed smell. She picked up the plate and went to the living room to sit on the sofa. She noticed the indentation on the sofa by the back wall. Had Jane slept there? She didn't know what to think of that so didn't comment and sat down, placing the plate on the coffee table and reaching for the remote.

Jane had watched Lisbon and knew she realized he had slept over. He also noticed that she decided not to comment. Interesting. He brought his own plate and a mug of tea with him and joined Lisbon on the sofa, each sitting on opposite ends and watching some animal show that happened to be on. He quietly observed Lisbon tear pieces off the top of her muffin and pop them into her mouth and rub her fingers together above the plate on her lap to discard the crumbs. She was wearing a big loose white shirt and the green flannel pants from last night.

"What?" Lisbon asked, having caught him staring at her. She was looking over at him now.

"Nothing," he said innocently, taking a bite out of his muffin as if to prove the point.

"You sure?" she asked speculatively, raising a brow.

"Well, I was just wondering if this was your normal weekend routine," he finally asked, having swallowed his bite.

"Normally I'd have been up a couple hours ago and out on a morning jog- what?" she asked, smiling at his grimace.

"Any normal person would be sleeping in," he said in distaste.

"Oh really? So all those other morning joggers aren't normal either? What about you?" she asked, a sarcastic bite to her amused tone. If he called himself normal she'd laugh.

"Well, I certainly don't go out for a morning exercise," he replied, reaching over and snagging a piece of orange off her plate.

"Hey!"

He gave her a cheeky grin and popped the peeled wedge into his mouth. She rolled up the muffin paper and threw it at Jane's head, it bouncing off his forehead.

"Are you challenging me to a food fight?" Jane asked in a dramatic ominous voice. He plucked an apple wedge off his plate, taking aim.

"No!" she practically squealed, leaping up to her feet then immediately freezing, clutching her ribs. Food forgotten Jane quickly placed the apple down on his plate and rushed to her side, gently lowering her to the sofa.

"Are you okay?" Jane asked in alarm, holding her arms. She was hissing through clenched teeth, but nodded her head, cradling her ribs still. "Do you want me to get you some ibuprofen?"

After another moment she slowly breathed in through her nose and let the breath out before answering, "No, I'm fine. I just moved too quickly."

Lisbon then punched his arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" he said, rubbing his arm gingerly.

"You shouldn't be picking fights with me when I'm still healing!"

"But you started- okay, okay! Truce!" Jane said when he saw her raise her fist to hit him again. She openly grinned at him, "Wimp."

"Oh, well that's not fair! How am I supposed to defend myself against an injured cop?" Jane said, still rubbing his arm as he sat back down next to her on the middle cushion.

"You're not. You're still a wimp, my brothers would have called that a love tap," she replied, still highly amused by his reactions as she finished eating.

There was a comfortable silence between them as they returned to watching the news, Abby had come to join them, lying in front of the coffee table.

"Has she gone outside yet?" Lisbon interrupted the silence.

"Yes, I took her out for a short walk," Jane rumbled, having settled back into the sofa cushions, arms resting on the sofa back.

"Thanks for taking me upstairs. I think I fell asleep at the table last night," Jane heard her quietly add. He looked over at her, she was still watching the TV. "And thank you for signing me out of the hospital, even if you were being a pain about it."

He grinned down at her, his eyes particularly green in the sunlight from the window. She looked over at him and realized just how close they were, she could see the golden brown that ringed his pupils within the almost grey green of his eyes. He could see the persistent, though light, freckling on her face despite her weeks out of direct sunlight. There seemed to be a force holding them in that moment.

Jane made the first move, though it wasn't the one that Lisbon had thought. He pulled her close to him, her body against his. She was no longer able to see his face as he had brought her head to his shoulder. She didn't attempt to remove herself from that position, only tried settling her body more comfortably as it was half twisted facing him. She brought her own arms about his waist and sat silently, feeling as though he needed this somehow.

"Lisbon. Teresa," he sounded as though he was trying out her name, though unknown to her he had said it many times while she was in a coma, "Don't you _ever_ do something so stupid as to take a bullet for me ever again. I'm not worth it."

His voice had gone from gentle to almost stern, his arms had flexed, wanting to pull her in closer, but not, fearing for her healing torso.

"Jane, you can't tell me not to try and protect one of my team members," she was talking into his shoulder. There was no indication that he was going to let go of her any time soon; his hold on her was firm and just on the threshold of becoming painful if she moved. He finally pulled away from her, his hands now holding her shoulders. They were looking into each other's eyes.

"Teresa," he began again, "don't waste your life on mine. I should have listened to you and not gone in when you told me. I don't deserve…"

"Jane, you're part of the team, even when you don't act like it… which is most of the time. But as part of this team you're my responsibility… which often results in a lot of paperwork for me," she admits with a small smile, "You kept telling me you wanted me to trust you, do you remember? Trust should go both ways. You should have known I'd do my best to save you or anyone else on the team, even if you're a pain in the ass, you're our pain in the ass and I'd do it all over again."

"I don't know if I should be offended, but this isn't about trust, I'm telling you not to-"

"This _is_ about trust!" Lisbon exploded, swiping angrily at his hands on her shoulders, "if you trusted my judgment none of this would have happened! Half the shit you get into is because you don't _listen_ to me! So yah, you should listen to me, and you need to actually trust me. For someone who's supposed to know what's going on in everybody's minds you sure can be dense!"

Jane sat in stunned silence. True, it wasn't the first time she has ever yelled at him (she yelled at him for something almost every other day), but to have been blind to this underlying problem. He relied on her a lot, knew her probable reactions, and depended on those reactions. He did things seemingly without thinking of the consequences, but he was more than aware of the consequences as long as he knew the variables. He was off his game and hadn't taken into account how much out of his mind Dawes would be, that he would have a gun (drug addicts should have sold or pawned everything of any worth to score). It had been a terrible day to make a mistake like that.

Everyone thought he did things on impulse and without thought, and he did do many things on impulse, but that was just part of his personality. It was never without thought, however. He knew better than most people how serious consequences could be. How arrogantly thinking that no one could touch you and trying to make a fast buck could have deadly ramifications.

"I do trust you," he said quietly, his eyes searching hers, wanting her to believe him, "It's because I trust you that I know I can do almost anything and you will help me."

"So trusting me amounts to you causing me more problems at work?" her arms were crossed over her chest.

"I'm sorry if that's the result, but you know I do what I do to find out the truth. That's what you want to know too, that's why you keep me around. I close cases, isn't that what you tell everyone?" he pressed, a smile curling its way onto his mouth at the end.

Lisbon's arms were still crossed, but she let out a sigh, "I just wished we were on the same page when it came to rules and regulations."

Jane patted Lisbon's knee with a smile and said, "Don't worry, I won't cause you any paperwork for the rest of the week."

"It's Saturday, it's already the end of the week," Lisbon said flatly, hands around her now cold coffee.

"Oh, did I tell you it was Saturday? It's actually Monday," he looked down at his watch, "and time for me to go, I'll stop by after work. Try to rest some more, it's the only way to heal faster."

"Wait, what?! Jane, you're late for work! And why did you tell me it was Saturday?!" Lisbon spluttered disbelievingly, standing up after Jane, who was pulling his jacket on, Abby looking up at him, tail thumping the floor.

"Relax, the team knows I'm coming in late. I didn't want to stress you out by telling you it was a work day. I'll see you later," Jane tossed over his shoulder as he carried their empty plates to the kitchenette.

"Are you really going to be good and not break any rules this week?"

"I never said that, I just said I wouldn't cause you any paperwork."

"Seeing as I'm on medical leave that's not really a promise," she said, clearly frustrated.

"Oh yes it is, because our good friend Cho will be taking care of it. See? No worries. Good bye now!" and he was out the door.

"Unbelievable!" Lisbon said to herself, throwing her arms in the air, causing her to wince.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Notes:** Thank you yaba/yana!

Thanks to the following for leaving reviews/comments. 5 more and Blue Memories will hit the 100 reviews mark!

mtm (thanks!), Chiisana Minako ("… and you shall be my squishy!" Ah Dory, awesome. Candy cane, my throat is sore, minty somethings are pretty good for that.), Tessa27, Firebreather23 (Oh no! I hope your hands heal quickly and thank you Ice for assisting.), Nancy, Charmed225, MK, Queen Em (Yay! Another new reviewer!), Ebony10, Bezelburr, lisbonloafers (Very sensible shoes I see. Love it!), and starbuckfaerie21.

Please enjoy and review!

**Chapter 10**

Jane's drive to work was uneventful, relatively smooth since he missed the morning traffic by going to work late. He had told the rest of the team that he would be checking in on their injured boss in the mornings. Grace had given him a knowing look to which he feigned ignorance, Cho had looked up from his book, slightly skeptical at the seemingly innocent statement their consultant had made. Rigsby had laughed to himself, commenting sarcastically that seeing Jane first thing in the morning was _exactly_ what their boss needed. A good point, or so Grace had apparently thought as her knowing look became concerned and she strongly cautioned Jane _not_ to rile their boss up. It couldn't be good for the healing process. He had waved off their concerns, telling them not to worry. After all, he hadn't riled Lisbon up, not much anyway…

No, in fact, he could confidently tell them that she had been quite relaxed this morning in her own home, enjoying the morning news with breakfast he himself had prepared. It would be the truth, it's exactly what happened. They didn't need to know the sordid details of what happened _after_ that part.

Van Pelt and Rigsby were enthralled by Jane's story of the previous night's escape from the hospital (reassuring Van Pelt that yes, he did indeed fill out the proper forms to have her released, and no, they wouldn't be getting any calls from the hospital about a kidnapping) and almost disbelieving that Lisbon would actually let him take her away.

"She had to have been high on painkillers when you did that," Rigsby declared, an amused look on his face, "I wonder what the boss is like when she's dosed up?"

Van Pelt shook her head, "No, actually I think I can see her letting you get her out. It must have been driving her crazy just sitting in that hospital room all day with nothing to do but watch TV. I mean, I heard she even begged Cho to bring her paperwork to do."

Jane smirked. Paperwork seemed to be a theme going around. "Funny you should mention that-"

"Cho, in my office," Minelli called out, before turning around and heading back.

Cho looked up from his book and carefully placed a bookmark between the pages, setting it down on his desk before getting up from his seat.

"It looks like we got another case."

***

Lisbon thought over her morning after Jane left. She didn't know what to make of the events that transpired between her and the dark blond consultant. She seemed to be receiving mixed signals. She could swear that he was going to kiss her. _'Not that he should,' _she back pedaled.

She spent the rest of the morning playing with Abby and found that the dog didn't chase after thrown things unless she was encouraged. It wouldn't do to have a service dog suddenly chasing down a ball while on the job.

She took a nap after lunch, having heated up one of the containers Jane left for her. She drifted off recalling the scent and warmth of Jane's body pressed against hers when he held her.

***

The end of the week came quickly. Lisbon's ribs were aching less and less, having heeded Jane's advice on resting (she remembered the doctor telling her the same thing, she was only doing what the doctor ordered, she thought stubbornly). Just being home in her own bed felt better than in the impersonal hospital where people you didn't know passed on through at all hours of the day, checking on her or the other patient she was rooming with. She still had to contend with follow up checkups that had been scheduled throughout the next couple of months though.

Jane came in every morning and evening, but didn't stay the night as he had that first time. He made her breakfast and saw to it that she had dinner, a couple times bringing in takeout meals.

It was Friday night and he had brought Thai food with him that day. Lisbon hungrily dug in, explaining she had taken Abby out to the park earlier. She felt his eyes on her again, though she was used to his habit of staring at people and wasn't as bothered as she had been initially when they had first met. However, she felt it had been happening more often as of late. Maybe it was because there was no one else to stare at? She wondered.

Once in a while, this past week, she had also noticed him fiddling with his wedding ring. It wasn't something she would normally notice, because if he wasn't pretending to sleep on the couch at the office he was usually moving about, doing something. He was less flighty in her home, perhaps because he had already seen it, and upon not discovering any changes from his last visit was content to just sit with her when he wasn't cooking or washing dishes.

Lisbon had seen her neighbor earlier that day when taking Abby to the park. An elderly man, who lived two doors down, Mr. Downey, smiled at her knowingly, as he walked in with his newspaper tucked under an arm. She had been confused by that look. Despite his almost white hair, his eyebrows were black, and quite shaggy. They had accompanied his shrewd look with a good waggle up and down. She started to become paranoid as she continued on walking to the park, it dawning on her that the neighbors must have noticed Jane coming in to visit her every day. She had clamped down on the panic. It didn't matter what other people thought because nothing was going on!

She had called Cho to check in on everyone at the office, asking if Jane had gotten into trouble that week. To her surprise Cho gave a positive report on Jane, he hadn't gotten into any major trouble, at least not big enough to cause a public relations scandal. Fortunately, no forests were going to be wasted on his behavior this week. To be fair, they only had one small case open, so most of the time he had been in the office.

Still, Lisbon had been proud of Jane and told him so in a roundabout manner during their Friday night Thai dinner.

"Checking in on me? My, my, worried I'd break my promise?" Jane teased.

"Hey, you yourself said that it could be kept since I wouldn't actually be in the office," she pointed out.

"No, you said that, I merely pointed out that Cho would have to do any administrative work if an incident were to occur," he corrected playfully.

"Whatever, I'm still glad you kept your promise," she huffed, taking a bite out of her spring roll.

"Are your ribs feeling better?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Much, now it's more of a twinge when I move. It only really hurts if I forget and turn my body or stretch out too much," she said, picking at her noodles with chopsticks.

Jane nodded, carefully eating his noodles. Lately, he had been thinking more about Lisbon, which led to his family, and ultimately to Red John. His wedding band kept him on the path he had set out for himself after he left the psychiatric ward. He would get his revenge for his family. They had been innocent bystanders with an unfortunate link to a television psychic with a big mouth. His actions almost a month ago had almost cost him someone he had grown to care for. It hadn't even been the work of Red John, but that of an unpredictable meth addict.

He still wanted to avenge his family, but at what cost? It had been fine when he had been alone. He had positioned himself to work for the CBI specifically so that he would have access to the Red John case. He hadn't counted on getting close with the team. He had tried to keep his distance as he had managed to for years, his fake smiles, uncensored mouth, knowing the right things to say to turn a person away from wanting to know him more personally. At first, he had been using Lisbon and her team. The difficulty lay in coming to the same place every day, getting to know them as individuals. Even as he did that naturally, picking out flaws in people, their weaknesses and vulnerability, marking targets, they eventually got through his invisible wall. The one he had learned to put up so that he could do what his father wanted, even as it broke his boyish heart.

Lisbon's personality hadn't helped either. It just begged for his attention when she had written him off from the beginning, his charm seemingly not affecting her. He had wanted her to like him like he had wanted no one else for a long time, the paper frog, the strawberries, the pony, and so many other things, just to see her smile. The last time he had done something to make someone else smile for no particular reason had been his wife, and even then it had been different, it had been a different life. He had showered her with extravagance, had been a different man then. He'd bring home red roses, her favorite wine; surprise her by taking her to the exclusive restaurant that had to be reserved months in advance.

With Lisbon the small things made her smile, although the pony wasn't so small, but that was special for her birthday.

He was still intent on avenging his family when the time came, but wasn't sure how he'd go about it anymore. It had been his purpose to live these last few years, but without noticing he had been changing little by little, until he had finally realized it these past few weeks worrying over Teresa Lisbon.

He couldn't get himself to admit the full truth, but was able to go as far as knowing he more than liked her. Worrying over Lisbon gave Jane a purpose other than his vengeance. Maybe it was the fact that he went to his house very infrequently, having instead stayed in the hospital, the office, and finally at Lisbon's, though it was one time. He didn't go to sleep and wake up to the bloody smiley face hanging over him. Though he did have his wedding band, reminding him from time to time of everything he'd lost.

Lisbon noticed him staring more intently at his ring finger in silence for a long time, clearly in thought. She wondered what kind of decision he was making.

She had been enjoying his visits, had been a bit shocked upon realizing how often he had visited her in the hospital, and now at home. She wasn't used to being taken care of as she had always been the mothering force in her family, ever since she was twelve. She had, however, found herself not at all minding Jane taking over food preparations and clean up during her convalescence. She was also finding it more difficult to ignore the attraction she felt for him as he pampered her. She had been living an independent life for so long that she didn't know what to think of Jane's actions, including Monday's mixed messages, and recently his interest in his ring. She mentally shook her head. He was a coworker who was concerned for her. He didn't have a family to go home to so he just happened to have a lot of free time to spend with her. A family he tragically lost and must think about every day when he was alone at night.

She noticed him slowly pulling the ring off his finger, mentally going on red alert, wondering what was happening. She watched him as he held it in his palm, seeming to weigh it, nudging it with a finger, before closing his other fingers over it.

"Jane?" Lisbon cautiously asked.

He looked up at her, his other hand clasping over the closed one holding his ring. "Yes?"

She didn't elaborate, not sure if she'd be intruding on something too personal. She just didn't know what to say to him. She stared at him, quizzically concerned. He flashed a smile and pocketed the ring in the breast pocket of the jacket he had hung off the back of his chair. He had an indentation on his left ring finger from all the years he had worn it, before and after his family's death.

"Are you okay?"

He held his right hand out, palm up, across the table towards Lisbon. She stared at the offered hand for a moment, and then placed her own left hand on top, his warm hand clasping hers.

"I'll be fine."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes:** I'm amazed at the reviewer response this last chapter (and squealing). So many of you left a comment and a couple new people joined in. This makes me very happy. This is a not so long chapter and I can only hope you won't hurt me at the end of it… I make it sound very dreadful don't I? :-P

You all have given me much ego stroking, I feel like a James Bond villain in a luxuriously padded swivel chair, but instead of a fluffy white cat I am stroking my brain in my arms. Myes…

Thank you to the following reviewers: Katharen Silver, lisbonloafers, yaba (I'm glad you think it's "extremely powerful"), Chiisana Minako (Yay! Dori plushie!), starbuckfaerie21, Bezelburr, Ebony10 , silkysue10, Charmed225, ThranduilsDaughter, Tessa27, MK (Glad you like it. As much as us fans would absolutely squeal if something like you mentioned happen, it's not within their characters to do so and might as well be a story of 2 other people.), mtm, Nancy, Jadestar1981 (Thank you for thoughtfully leaving a review for every chapter! You're awesome! I'm glad you love this story so much.), Firebreather23, and Hikaru Ceres (You flatter me).

122 reviews! I believe Bezelburr was the 100th reviewer. Thank you all again for reviewing! Please enjoy and review.

**Chapter 11**

A week after the Friday night that Jane had removed his wedding band, Lisbon had finally traced and contacted the organization from which Abby had come. They thanked her profusely. Upon discovering the dog's circumstances and healed injuries, which still caused a slight limp, Lisbon was informed the dog would be placed in retirement, or perhaps could be used as a therapy dog to visit hospital patients. The puppy trainers would have first choice on taking Abby in, but they said they could put her on the list next if the trainers didn't want her. Though Teresa was tempted, she had to refuse the offer since soon she would be returning to her normal life and wouldn't have time for a dog.

Perhaps she could visit sometime?

Lisbon no longer took heavy medications and was cleared for duty by the hospital, though she wasn't yet cleared for field work. She grumbled a bit, but was happy to be out of the house, which was now depressing without the company of Abby to cheer her up. The day she returned to work, the CBI threw a welcome back party for her.

After her first day back, Jane no longer came over for breakfast or dinner. She was surprised at how much she had come to depend on his company over meals and after dinner watching TV on the couch. Of course he wouldn't come over. She was mostly recovered and could take care of herself as she had before. She found it to be difficult though, knowing how it could have been when she sat alone eating microwavable meals and fast food she picked up on the way home.

So she was pleasantly surprised to find Jane on her doorstep one Friday evening, a couple weeks after she had been cleared for full duty. He smiled and pulled out a DVD case that had some local video rental store's logo on it.

"I brought a movie and popcorn. Want to watch?" Jane said, pulling out a microwaveable bag of popcorn with his other hand. Lisbon stood aside, allowing Jane to walk into her home.

The two sat on the sofa, a large bowl of popcorn resting in Lisbon's lap. Jane teased her for being territorial about it, she had replied with a handful of popcorn thrown at him. He had rented _Naked Gun _a classic comedy from the 80's which made them laugh and smirk, commenting on how Leslie Nelson hasn't changed much since then, and on how much things have changed for O.J. Simpson since the movie.

Jane's arm had been resting behind Lisbon on the couch. They had been sitting close to easily share the popcorn, or at least that was what they told themselves. At some point Lisbon had leaned into Jane and ended up staying that way, though neither could pinpoint when it happened. His arm had come down to rest on her shoulders after a time as her head was resting against his chest, starting to pick up on the natural smell of him. His body radiated an inviting, dry warmth.

Lisbon fell asleep before the end of the movie. Jane shut off the TV with the remote when the credits started rolling. He listened to her steady breathing. Her head had slipped down so it was now resting on his stomach. She looked so peaceful.

Jane became conflicted. Did he wake her? Take her upstairs to her bed? She looked like she needed the rest. He had noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Perhaps he was being selfish, but he couldn't bring himself to move away from her, though after having recently healed it would do her no good to sleep partially upright. That would cause a rather sore back and neck come morning.

He weighed the consequences of his next actions, but decided he would risk her wrath. Popping his shoes off, he picked the bowl of popcorn kernels off of its precarious position on Lisbon's lap and set it on the floor. He gently positioned her head against his chest, bringing his legs up, aligning her body to his, securely tucked against him. He took the folded blanket off the back of her sofa and pulled it down over them. He stayed awake much of the night just savoring the feel of her body against him. Perhaps she would banish him from her home after this, but he was tired of being alone, and he believed that she was too.

***

Morning came, slanting bars of light hitting Teresa's face. She tried blocking out the light, snuggling into the warm body beneath her, sleep still clouding her mind. She distantly wondered when the last time she had slept with a man was, four years? Five? She had forgotten…

Eyes snapped open and Teresa was tumbling off of Patrick, tangled in the blanket and falling to the floor, hitting the coffee table on the way. She let out a pained sound and muttered curses. Patrick's eyes flew open, alerted to the movement and noise.

"Teresa, are you okay?" he was leaning over the couch, observing her on the floor, concern all over his face. She looked up at him and noticed abstractly how his curls were flattened on one side of his head even as she was clenching her teeth against the pain in her elbow from having banged it on the table.

Jane sat up and reached down, pulling her up and onto the couch, gently prying away her right hand from her left elbow. "Here, let me see that."

He studied the reddened joint and noted that it looked like there was going to be a nasty bruise.

"Jane, what are you doing?" the adrenaline from realizing she was sleeping on a man and then falling had cleared the cobwebs from her sleepy mind, spinning the wheels on supersonic speeds.

"Looking at your elbow. We should get some ice on it," he stated matter-of-factly, getting up to go to her kitchenette.

"Jane, what are you doing _here_?" she emphasized, holding her elbow again, boring a hole into his back with her eyes. He had opened the freezer drawer and was sifting through it, finding the bag of frozen peas she had solely for the purpose of icing her bruises and sore muscles.

"Well, I was sleeping on your couch before I was rudely awakened," he replied drily, grabbing a kitchen towel and wrapping it around the bag of peas as he walked back. He handed it to her then sat down beside her.

His nonchalant attitude was getting on her nerves quickly. How could he be so relaxed, as if they always fell asleep together on the couch?

"We can't do this. Please leave," came the quiet voice. She didn't look at him, instead staring at the floor as she held the makeshift ice pack to her bruised elbow.

There was a flutter of hope in Jane's chest as he heard the inclusive "we", meaning that she felt something for him as well, even if she wouldn't admit it to herself or others.

"Teresa-"

"Jane," his surname was said with emphasis, trying to distance him, "please just go."

He slowly stood up, but turned to her, looking at her downturned, dark head. "We _will_ be talking about this, make no mistake. See you at work."

She finally lifted her head when her door clicked shut. '_Why do you have to do this?'_ she silently asked Jane.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Notes:** Last night's episode… they danced! Lisbon gave in and danced, wow. Now we also know what Jane knows regarding Van Pelt and Rigsby. This whole story was written and finished before the end of December 2009, which is why I wrote that it was AUish since it is based on what we know from the episode "Throwing Fire" and previous to that.

Yes, I wrote the whole story. As such I can confidently tell you that the next chapter (Chapter 13) will be the last chapter of this story. Please read and review. Your comments sustain me through the cold nights. :-P

Thank you to the following for reviewing: yaba (thank you for all your beta work and support! Yes, Jane finally knows what he wants and appears to believe he knows what Lisbon wants, or should want according to him lol), Chiisana Minako (Yes… jumpy Lisbon is more fun, though I could imagine both reactions. I guess it all depends on the situation. May I have a pony?), lisbon69 :-D, MK (Yes, Jane had all that time while Lisbon was out of commission to think. She hasn't been aware of changes… and knowing is half the battle! G.I. Jo- ooooh. Some sort of copyright/trademark infringement was just about to happen…), Famous4it, lisbonloafers (would you really want to confine poor Lisbon in a body cast? Then Jane would like put her through some torture like listening to bad 80's songs all day, or sticking a feather on her nose…), Jadestar1981 (I'm not sure Jane would survive being locked in a room with Lisbon. She is a fierce little thing…), Hikaru Ceres (thank you. Yes, the pitchfork and torch people didn't come to get me, thank goodness.), Katharen Silver, Ebony10 (last night was cute, I was a bit surprised that they danced. If they were honest with themselves and they were supposedly just coworkers then it would have been as weird as seeing Cho and Van Pelt dancing together in a situation other than undercover or whatever…), and edwardcullen23 (and it sha'n't end like that for here is the new chapter!).

**Chapter 12**

Monday morning was not exactly pleasant for Lisbon. The previous night, she hadn't been able fall asleep, the thought of seeing Jane at work aiding her insomnia. She had finally fallen asleep sometime past midnight, but then woke up an hour before her alarm went off and lay in bed, trying to sleep again. She gave up and took a shower, taking her time. She drove to work, wondering if Jane would leave things alone, or try something with everyone at the office as witnesses.

'_I'm an adult,'_ she thought to herself sternly. Getting angry was a good way to get past the anxiety she was feeling.

She walked past everyone's desks, exchanging short morning greetings and then went into her office. Not long after, her door opened without prelude and Jane strolled in, placing a cup of coffee and a muffin on her desk. Then he sat in the chair opposite her desk, a smile in place, his fingers laced over his stomach as he leaned back.

Lisbon watched him wearily, but he didn't say anything. She returned to checking her inbox, things to wrap up from the team's previous cases, results from toxicology labs, and so forth. The only sounds was the din of the surrounding offices and bullpen, the ringing of phones, faint tapping on keyboards, muffled talking, and inside her office the sound of her pen writing, scratching against the grain of the paper.

"Did you need something?" Lisbon finally asked, unnerved by his silent presence. She looked up at him steadily, pen poised above the papers.

"No," Jane was still smiling at her.

"Well, if there's no reason for you to be here, you can leave me alone to work," she told him calmly.

"Oh, I didn't say there wasn't a reason and I can leave you alone to work while I sit here," he responded as though reassuring her. He heard the click of her pen as she placed it down smartly on her desk and laced her own fingers together over it, giving him her full attention. This was an unexpected turn of events, but he'd take it.

"Teresa-"

"Lisbon," she corrected.

"Fine. Lisbon," he resignedly said, _'Her and her office rules,'_ he mused, "We both know you like me. The natural progression of things is to date, which you can say we've been doing with every meal we've had including before you were shot-"

"Closed case pizza is _not_ a date," she interrupted.

"If you say so," the blond consultant grinned, internally surprised that she had let him get that far without interrupting him with denials. Though she was watching him, face wiped of any expression, which Jane found to be somewhat worrisome. "You enjoy my company; otherwise you would have tried to kick me out of your house as soon as you were home to do so. We know each other."

"Jane, if enjoying someone's company, liking them, and knowing someone are your qualifiers for dating then I might as well be dating Cho or Rigsby, even Grace," she deadpanned. Her Grace comment threw Jane for a moment; she could already see him imaging the scenario and becoming sidetracked before visibly shaking his head and refocusing on her.

"Rigsby is like a younger brother and Grace is very much not your type. Too much hero worship. I think they'd both agree that they're not interested seeing as they're already spoken for anyway," Lisbon quirked an eyebrow at the last comment, but Jane continued, "and Cho, though he is an upstanding friend and excellent coworker, is more like the friend you might go to a convention with, but never consider becoming more than that."

"Then what are you, Jane?" Lisbon asked, somewhat intrigued by his viewpoint.

"I'm the incorrigible partner in crime that drives you crazy, and yet helps balance your personality perfectly. I'm your match," he wrapped up smugly.

"I'll admit we can be a good team, when you're not trying to make me kill you," she quickly added when a look of triumph lit his face, "but it can only work because we're coworkers, professionals. Entering a relationship beyond that could jeopardize our teamwork if we get caught up in personal issues between us. That's why we have non-fraternization rules."

"We all know something is going on between Rigsby and Van Pelt, why aren't you pushing the rule on them?" Jane pushed.

"I never said I knew that anything was going on between those two. We're not talking about them," Lisbon argued, a carefully constructed expression of "deniability" firmly in place.

"You brought up the non-fraternization rule; this very much is about them then. You are clearly turning a blind eye, why is that?" he pressed, spotting a weak point in her argument and going for it.

Lisbon, caught, could only stare back at him, keeping herself from flapping her mouth with stuttering.

"You're turning a blind eye to them, because it hasn't affected their work. We've seen how they flirt together at work when they think nobody notices. I know you've noticed. Yet you're not enforcing the same rule on them that you say applies to us. Why is that, Teresa?" his mild voice had grown an edge to it.

Lisbon was rather dumbfounded by his accusations and didn't know how to respond. Her cheeks flushed as she turned to anger for support, "Get out."

"I'm not leaving without a good explanation," Jane said firmly. He stayed seemingly relaxed, his arms now on the armrests of his chair as he watched her carefully.

"Fine, you want an explanation?" she hissed, mindful that her glass walls were not soundproof, "Say we did develop whatever this is between us," she motioned with her hand, "We date. We get closer. What happens when Red John shows up? You're so hell bent on avenging your dead family that you're likely to kill him. Then I'd have to arrest you. I will _not_ go against my principals just because we got involved. But even if we got him into custody without incident, or we never catch him, there'd be us, together. What's next? We get dependent on each other; do something stupid on a case, and one of us dies. What then? Look what happened to you after your family died. If you die, what was the point of having been together in the first place? It'll just cause both of us pain in the end and I can't sacrifice what I have for something so unsure.

"I have my job and my coworkers. I put the bad guys away so they can't hurt any more people. I'm- I'm happy with what I've got now, why screw up what we already have? For all you know we might just hurt each other and break up anyway, then what? You transfer to another team? Quit? Or we still work with each other, thinking of what we had and maybe end up getting distracted. Why risk any of that?"

Jane looked on sorrowfully at Lisbon, all her insecurities laid out before them. She was heaving slightly, still very much upset. She had apparently put in a lot of thought about them.

"This is about your parents," he stated quietly, eyes understanding.

"What?" she was surprised at the perceived change of topic.

"You're afraid that what happened to your parents will happen to you. They were so happy together, a nice family, until your mother died. Then everything fell apart," he continued softly.

"Don't you dare bring them into this! Get out!" she was furious, springing up from her chair, an odd glint in her eyes.

"Your father loved your mother so much, but when she died, he might as well have died too. You weren't enough for him, you and your brothers. You probably wondered why he didn't love you any more, wondered if all of you were as worthless as to not deserve love," Jane pressed on, still seated.

"I don't need to listen to this! Get out now!" she was grabbing him by his suit and pulling him up, desperately wanting him to stop talking and leave her alone in the office.

"You're afraid to commit to a relationship because you're worried you'll end up like your dad, all alone with nothing to live for. You're afraid that you'll fall in love and become so dependent on someone else that you'll become nothing without them," at some point while he was talking, Lisbon stopped trying to shove him out of her office, instead she was gasping, unable to face him, but still clinging to his suit. Cho and Rigsby didn't hear much of the conversation, mostly the part where she had been yelling at him to leave, but they were betting on the probability of her bodily removing him from her office.

Back inside the office, Jane slowly brought a comforting hand up to her shoulder. She flinched away, dropping both of her hands from their grip on his suit. She turned and stormed out of the office, leaving a surprised team in her wake.

"Was she crying? Jane! What did you say to her?!" came Van Pelt's voice as she stomped into the office, on the offensive. Cho and Rigsby had followed and were behind each shoulder. Cho's face was formidable, his dark eyes hardened. Jane briefly wondered if he'd have to try to protect his nose soon. Rigsby somehow managed to tower over him more than usual. All three were certain that whatever happened was completely Jane's fault.

Jane's hands were in his pockets so no one could see that they were clenched into fists. His face was as serious as they'd ever seen it, his mouth pulled into a grim line. "We had an argument. She'll be fine. She's a strong woman."

His answer didn't satisfy any of the agents, but before any one of them could say anything further Minelli came into the office, "Where's Lisbon? You got a case."

"I'll go get her," Jane volunteered, and before anyone could stop him, he had slipped away.

***

For as upset as Teresa was, she knew she shouldn't leave the building, she was on the clock and a case could come at any time, but she didn't want to face anyone right now. So she went to the parking lot and sat in her car. Her arms and forehead rested on the steering wheel as she tried to clear her head in silence.

'_Jane is a bastard,'_ was one of her first thoughts. She needed to calm down, but found that very difficult. How would she be able to face the team after having stormed out, almost in tears? She didn't want to admit it, was still trying to deny it, but Jane had hit the nail right on its head.

A knock on her window startled her; she looked up and found that it was Jane. Seeing that she had not locked her car, he opened the driver's side and waited silently for her to strike or scream. She did neither, just sat and stared at him. Why wouldn't he just leave her alone?

"Teresa."

"What?" she said tiredly, shoulders slumped in defeat. She didn't have any fight left in her.

"We have a case," he solemnly told her, noticing her slightly reddened eyes and posture.

She sighed and composed herself, flipping down the sun visor above her to check herself in the mirror. Great, her eyes were red. Hopefully no one would notice as they weren't that red, she hadn't actually cried much. She'd blame it on allergies.

Lisbon looked on at Jane reproachfully, "We're only going to talk about the case, otherwise we have nothing to say. We will not be distracted from the job. You got that?"

Jane nodded, knowing he'd have to listen for the time being until she was in a more reasonable state of mind. She was going into a sort of survival mode to get things done.

Lisbon stepped out of her car and closed the door behind her. He followed her back into the building.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Notes:** This is it. Thank you everyone for reading and leaving comments. I do my author's notes at the top so that when you read you don't get deceived that there is more story at the bottom when instead there is an author's note.

I have a bad track record with finishing fanfics, which is why with this story I wrote the whole thing before I started posting each chapter. I didn't want to risk not finishing it, having posted several chapters and leave readers hanging. So if I write another fanfic I think my plan of action will be to write the whole story and finish it before I start posting.

Thank you Yana/yaba for all your help with editing this story and your ideas. It was enjoyable working with you. Thursday's new episode was fun, but those last couple minutes… I almost couldn't believe it. Great, I guess Bruno Heller had to give the fans a few crumbs, because didn't he say that though the Lisbon/Jane relationship was one way they could take the show it wasn't very likely to happen? Once that kind of happiness is achieved in other shows like that between leads ratings start falling and such horrible things like cancellation…

Anyway, thanks go out to those who left me reviews/comments for chapter 12: Yaba, lisbonloafers (I'm glad I was able to make you laugh. I was hoping for a humorous reaction to that line.), mwalter1, MOSI3, Katharen Silver , Famous4it, Chiisana Minako (You can decide if the ending deserves a pony…), Country2776, Nancy (I'm glad you thought I've captured their bantering. It's easy and difficult at the same time. What kind of thing they would banter about and then figuring out their wording… I think Jane has an interesting speech pattern.), Hikaru Ceres (I'm glad you think my fic stands out among others.), lisbon69, edwardcullen23, Jadestar1981, and MK.

Also, thanks to all the other reviewers of my previous chapters. I hope you all tell me what you think of this last chapter. Please read and review.

**Chapter 13**

The others were perplexed by Lisbon and Jane's behavior. Lisbon seemed to be herself on the case, following leads, delegating work, the face of professionalism, though something wasn't quite right. No one had commented on the incident that morning. Jane, though, was different. He was quiet and strangely obedient, not undermining Lisbon's authority by following his hunches on the side. He respectfully mentioned his ideas, and generally didn't act himself. How long would this last? Had Lisbon finally brought him to heel?

No, it was likely only for a day or two, the junior agents thought. It had happened before, usually after something went terribly wrong, but even then he wasn't this subdued. There wasn't even their usual banter. Jane was even giving Lisbon space. When going in separate cars, he elected to ride with Van Pelt and Rigsby, leaving Cho to ride with their boss.

Through the course of the case, which consumed the whole week, ending on Tuesday of the next week, it remained like this. Jane stayed at his couch when in the bullpen, not bothering Lisbon in her office as he normally did when he got bored of napping (or pretending to nap) on his couch. He still quietly brought her coffee in the mornings though.

Van Pelt had noticed some time ago that Jane no longer wore his wedding ring and slowly pieced together what may have happened. Did he ask their boss out? People had noticed before the flirting that took place between them. After Lisbon had been shot and Jane stayed in the hospital watching over her, visited her at home in the mornings, she had thought that maybe they were getting closer. Then the ring had vanished one day and Grace wondered if he was finally moving on, moving on with Teresa Lisbon. She remembered feeling happy for them, but then the mysterious fight happened and changed everything.

With current state of affairs the whole team felt uneasy, not sure what could cause a meltdown and tread cautiously around their boss, trying their best to do an excellent job. Somehow, they felt that pretending nothing was wrong would help ease the tension and at the very least seeing them hard at work should please the senior agent.

It was Cho's turn to order the closed case pizza. He thought that things would have come back to normal by now, but they hadn't. Jane was still mostly doing things by the book as per Lisbon's orders; he was still subdued, though his happy facade was coming back in place. Lisbon was strictly professional and still didn't talk to Jane unless it was about their case. _'Better order that pizza and try to keep things going as they should,'_ Cho thought, dialing the number at his desk.

When the pizza came, Lisbon came out of her office briefly, "Good work team."

And though she didn't feel particularly hungry, she took a slice of pizza and took it back with her to her office, explaining she still had papers to fill on their latest closed case.

It was after the other agents had left, leaving the building almost empty that Jane decided to go to Lisbon's office. He walked up and knocked on her door and waited patiently.

He wondered if she was ignoring him, but then finally heard the tired voice say, "Come in."

He studied her desk and saw that she had papers still sprawled across it, still busily working on them. The slice of pizza she had taken earlier was sitting on a paper towel next to her, cold and untouched.

"You're not happy," he concluded. Lisbon didn't say anything, instead waiting for him to explain as she continued to write. "You told me that you were happy with what you had now, but clearly you're not. I did as you wanted, as you told me to do, by the book. Yet I can see you wonder if maybe we would have cracked this case even a couple days sooner if I was up to my old tricks, doing things my way. I also think you miss having dinner with me. I miss seeing you happy. Was it so bad for me to come over? You were having fun then. We both were. Doesn't that tell you something?"

"Yah, it tells me you should never have brought it up," she snapped, shoulders tensing.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn about this? Do you like being miserable so much? Why can't you just admit that it was… nice?" Jane found himself almost pleading with her. His eyebrows had drawn together as he approached her desk, away from the door. He didn't want her to feel too cornered so he stayed in front of her desk.

"Okay," she mumbled, her face buried in her hands.

"Okay?" Jane was clamping down on his enthusiasm, not wanting to raise his hopes in case he was misunderstanding her. Lisbon dropped her hands to her desk and looked up at him, his suppressed hopeful smile straining to come free.

"Nothing changes at work. I'm still Lisbon and you're still Jane. We maintain a professional relationship here. I'm still your boss and I need to know you can handle that," she stated, as if giving into demands, instead of giving them.

Jane was practically bouncing on his toes, a faux serious look on his face as he nodded vehemently, "Oh absolutely. Very professional."

She cautiously studied him, a wide grin was splitting his face by now. He was suddenly at her side, pulling her out of her chair and into his arms in a tight hug.

"Jane! We're still in the office!" a blush bloomed up her neck and across her face, nervously looking around, afraid they would be caught.

"It's after hours and you're off the clock, relax, no one is here anyway."

Nevertheless, he abated and released her from his embrace, drawing away from her, though he held her hands in his own now.

"And Jane, you can't do that at the office," she was looking away shyly, her stern tone from earlier fading.

"Of course, my dear Lisbon," his voice taking on an indulgent lilt, "Let's get out of here."

"Not yet, I still have-"

"It can wait," he interrupted, picking up her blazer from the back of her office chair and draping it over his arm, placing his free hand skimming the small of her back. She felt the heat of his fingertips burn through her shirt. He started pushing her out of her office when she didn't move.

"Jane! Stop pushing!" she yelled at him, but he was able to see a smile tickling her lips and a twinkle in her eyes he hadn't seen for a while and knew she wasn't really upset with him.

***

The two stopped at a grocery store near Teresa's apartment and went to the deli section to get some premade food. Neither had been in the mood to eat earlier and as a result was now very hungry (and of course Rigsby left no prisoners of pizza form for them).

"I feel like we're getting ready for a picnic," Teresa told Patrick as they chose jojos, salad, and chicken strips.

"We could if you want," the off duty consultant said thoughtfully, already trying to recall parks with a beautiful night view, placing the food items into their shopping basket.

"It's late and we have work tomorrow, we're eating in," Lisbon quickly extinguished his ideas.

"Then maybe another time," Jane amended, just happy to be in her presence and discussing mundane things.

Lisbon felt out of sorts since agreeing to… whatever this was. The grocery store didn't help as it had been recently remodeled, the white tile floors and refrigeration units sparkling in a distracting way. The walls seemed to absorb sound leaving them in an unnatural void. She glanced up at Jane beside her, choosing dips for their chicken and picking up a few packets of condiments. He noticed her gaze and flashed a smile at her. She looked away and noticed a mother pushing her shopping cart a few aisles down from them, a toddler sitting in the cart.

"Are you okay, Teresa?"

She whipped her head back towards her companion, the background noise of registers and squeaky cart wheels suddenly noticeable. It was still odd to hear him say her first name, though he had tried using it several times since she had been in the hospital.

"Um, yeah. Just tired I guess," she lied, partially in any case. She did feel tired and yet strangely alert at the same time.

"Hm. I think some ice cream will cheer you up," he said and dragged her to the frozen foods aisle next to the deli section. He knew she wasn't being up front with him, but let it go.

He watched her get engrossed with choosing flavors (and checking calories) and then internally struggle between the flavors she liked and the amount of fat they represented. He plucked the fudge brownie chocolate ice cream that he knew she really wanted out of the case and tossed it into the basket.

They arrived separately at her home and ate their dinner on the couch, watching TV. It took a while, but Teresa was finally relaxing.

"Well, look at the time. I better get going," Patrick finally said, stretching and playing up how tired he was with a yawn.

"Where are you going?"

He looked down at her in mild surprise. Did he detect some longing in her voice? He smiled.

"Home. That's where people normally go to sleep," he replied innocently.

"You're not normal," she replied sarcastically, a bit of a smile playing at her lips. He grinned down at her.

"So where do you propose I go?" he tipped his head towards her, eyebrow raised.

She cleared her throat, giving the appearance of business as she straightened up their plates, stacking them, "I thought you could stay here. On the couch," she clarified, meeting his eyes with a straight face.

He smiled and leaned in, his hand cupping the back of her head. Teresa's eyes slipped closed instinctively but he kissed her brow and pulled back. He saw the stunned look on her face as he got up and took their stacked plates to the small kitchen.

She was staring at him and he finally spoke, "Are you going to call me Patrick?"

"Screw you," she muttered, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Clearly puzzled and annoyed. Was he toying with her?

"I'll take that as a yes then, Teresa," he made it a point of using her first name. He strode across the living room and scooped her up, she struggled and he laughed, kissing her on her lips this time. She broke free, very peeved, her face glowing.

"Damnit, Jane!"

"Patrick," he corrected.

She hit him on the chest then hugged him around the waist, his arms still surrounding her.

"Why do you have to be so annoying?" she breathed into his shoulder.

He started swaying as though to a slow dance song and turned to kiss her head, speaking into her hair, "You know you love it when I frustrate you."

"Not really," she protested, turning her head to look up at him. They were both aware of the comforting warmth and smells of each other. He detected that elusive hint of cinnamon that he now knew was present on the days she made cinnamon rolls.

"You do. You're not as straight laced as you want everyone to believe, but have to keep up appearances. Half the time you like what I do," he smiled down at her, eyes gray in the dim lighting.

"Not even half the time," she amended. He smiled down at her victoriously to which she rolled her eyes.

She gently extricated herself from his arms. "I'm going to bed," she informed him. She placed her palms on his chest and leaned up, pecking him on the lips, "Goodnight Patrick."

They smiled at each other and she walked up the stairs, hearing him call to her, "Goodnight Teresa."

The End


End file.
